


Love Ain't Just a Word

by Hosnianprime



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dark Rey, F/M, Hux is spinning the table, I like my fic like I like my coffee: dark, Implied Poe Dameron/Finn, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kylo Ren Redemption, RFFA Valentine's Exchange 2018, Slow Burn, good guys go bad, in a different way, monsters are on both sides, prisoner!ren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 22:45:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13774188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hosnianprime/pseuds/Hosnianprime
Summary: "...Kylo Ren has to be tried as a war criminal in a fair and public trial to give the galaxy the right example. This is true. But also, he is still her son, no matter what she says and I don’t think she could bear the idea of giving the kill order herself. You have to respect this. We do not play the way the First Order plays.”He paused.“But then again, Leia didn’t say exactly how we should treat our prisoner, you know.” This time, there was a little nervousness, a dark undertone in his voice. “As long as he lives, and can be tried, he is in our hands. Yours and mine. And we both owe him a friendly reminder of his hospitality.” Poe’s jaw clenched.Finn felt the sweet taste of revenge surge up in him again. Yes, this was necessary. This was the right thing."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [paynesgrey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paynesgrey/gifts), [ChromiumHeart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChromiumHeart/gifts).



Finn looked sternly in Poe’s eyes. “Are you sure about this?” he inquired.

“Absolutely. Our intel is rock solid.” Poe seemed more calm and determined than ever.

“Is Leia on board with this?” Finn, although enthralled by what they were about to do, still had a tiny voice in his head that was obliging him to lift as much responsibility off his shoulders as possible. The plan was great, in fact, unprecedented, but still, he felt the Resistance was walking a fine line here.

“Yes.” Poe nodded a little to give weight to his words. Leia’s support was important, he had to let Finn know that they were acting on command, or at least with the General turning a blind eye on the mission.

“But it was your idea, right?” Finn furrowed his eyebrows.

“Yes, it was. But I have the full support of the General and our allies.” He had to have Finn on his side too, after all, it was going to be him to bring home the operation. Finn licked his lips in nervousness. Then finally, he gave into the revolting sensation of the possibility of getting revenge _and_ securing the victory for the Resistance.

“Okay. But you will have to walk me through the plan very thoroughly.”

Poe smiled in relief and slapped Finn’s arm twice in good mood, before grabbing him with both hands in a firm grip. “That’s my boy!” he lit up his maddeningly hot smile. Finn’s mood seemed to be eased enough now to drop the bomb on him. “Just one more thing… Rey can’t know about this,” he suddenly added in a low, meaningful voice and glanced around involuntarily to see who might have seen them speaking.

The sight of the leader of the air forces and the leader of one of the ground units entwined in serious conversation in the middle of the hangar on the eve of a battle would not have raised any suspicion, but still, keeping secrets was not common in the Resistance and Poe felt guilty enough about it to give himself away.

Finn frowned a little. _Why again?_ It was a plausible goal for them to try to capture Kylo Ren. It was logical, although seemingly impossible. The months since Crait were hard on every one of them, but maybe mostly on Rey who seemed to lose her shining brightness bit by bit every day.

Finn knew she struggled to sleep and at the same time she trained and meditated as a madman to bore every single lesson she learned from Skywalker into her muscle memory so nothing and no one could take that away from her. She even persuaded Leia to let her read her memories from her brief training as a Jedi, revisiting every conversation she ever had with a Jedi master and somehow they managed to dig up enough material for Rey to be able to read the Jedi books. Reading and understanding was not the same thing though and her frustration with being unable to pull this off on her very own – like she was used to – poured out from time to time. But as this was Rey we were speaking about, she channeled her anger into repairing ships and healing people. Still, she hardened under the pressure, her playful features fading, dusted by the inglorious war. Finn was her closest and maybe only friend. He saw that in the rare moments when she let her guards down, sitting together on the edge of the training field after exercise, just enjoying their well-earned break.

Still, he suspected that there were things she didn’t tell anyone, not even him, something that was eating her up from the inside. Something that happened aboard the _Supremacy_ , something that broke that lightsaber – and apparently her heart – in half.

Word spread that Leia had said in desperation that her son was beyond saving. It was supposed to be a private moment, a mother mourning and accepting definitively the loss of her only son to the Dark Side, but Leia was the General of the Resistance and her beliefs determined the overall strategy so necessarily everyone has discussed this once sentence more secretly or openly.

The first time Rey heard that from someone she was in a good mood, smiling in the canteen as they filled their bellies. She wasn’t even supposed to hear it, she caught that from the talks of another crew who were sitting next to them. She immediately had frozen in her tracks for a second then she excused herself in a very un-Rey-like calculated politeness and went outside of the base into the forest and didn’t emerge from there until late in the night, covered in sweat, with her staff in her hand. The storm was blazing, her clothes soaked but as Finn saw her returning to the base he _felt_ that there were tears mingling with the pouring rain on her face.

There was something about Rey and Kylo Ren. Something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on but something that apparently Poe and Leia must have noticed too, otherwise they would not have withheld this information from her. Maybe that was a Force-thing and they saw her as a security risk, a possibility to give them away in an unguarded moment. Apart from Rey, nobody knew how the Force worked exactly – and even Rey was far from understanding it – but Leia suspected that if she had a connection that was able to make feel her son in rare glimpses then Rey’s vision must have been more amplified. They couldn’t risk this one chance they coaxed out of their impossibly inferior situation to the First Order. Either way, he admitted that it was for the best not to let her know their plan indeed. Besides, Finn owed Kylo Ren an awful lot. It was time for payback. 

He finally nodded. “Let’s get this over with.” Poe patted his arm again, more seriously this time then turned on his heels and headed to one of the meeting rooms, Finn hot on his trails.

*

The conference room aboard his brand new _Mega-_ class Star Dreadnought _Annihilation_ was buzzing with conversation in preparation for their next assault on the Resistance. Kylo Ren had choked enough of his subordinates nearly to death when he learned that their scouts could have been spotted, still, there was a chance that the Resistance didn’t have enough information to run safely. After hinting various fake rumors as a decoy just to be sure, he decided to pursue the plan. The possibility of wiping out or capturing their most experienced generals was too alluring to abandon the whole mission that they have been carefully building up for weeks now.

After the battle of Crait, Kylo Ren has spent his time hunting down everyone that could be in connection with the Resistance but instead of getting rid of them, he forged powerful alliances, spinning a web of intelligence around the rebels. By now, the Resistance has been purchasing the better part of their supplies from double agents of the First Order without knowing about it. Information poured in like rain, and Kylo had a pretty exact picture of their state deriving from these data. Destruction didn’t work out for him finely and with his master suddenly gone he crashed on the history books – often the one and the same with a family album – and realized that he is in desperate need of devotion. Loyalty was the one thing that kept the Resistance running. Loyalty to his _mother_ and he would not be bested in anything by that old woman who didn’t care enough to raise him. He decided to get himself some new allies both in and outside of the First Order.

Therefore, he also gathered his Knights of Ren – something he neglected for years and then even more when he got distracted by Rey. The scavenger. He felt so alone, so _pathetically_ alone that he let her tell him that he wasn’t anymore because he had _her._ For a short time, he believed her but when she shut the door in his face, he was done begging. Warming up ties with his crew was the best cure he could find. Several of his Knights knew him since his childhood – from the infamous days of the Jedi Academy when they ran away with him to Snoke on that deadly night. Survival of the fittest, he guessed.

He knew that the army – especially Hux – had a queer eye on them, his private, Force-using dark mercenaries that operated outside of the chain of command but overrode it every time they turned up, and only had one lord to answer to – him. Reprising training with his Knights had significantly increased his skills and he seemed more balanced than ever before. Tantrums were more seldom, whenever he needed to blow off steam, he finally had worthy partners to train with instead. Overall, he was quite pleased with the achievements of his unplanned Supreme Leadership.

Save for that nagging in the corner of his mind, where he still continued to be connected to Rey. Night after night, in dreams, in hollow moments of strategy meetings a flick of her hand on her staff, a feeling of sadness or contentment seeped through the bond that he was trying to keep shut. During the day, he was more or less in control. But every other night, when he fell to rampant sleep from exhaustion, they inevitably met in heated dreams, arguing, persuading each other to switch sides, and battling in jungles, in knee-deep sand, in snowstorms – Rey impossibly with the Skywalker sabre, that’s how he  knew it was just a dream, otherwise so solid and vivid he felt the burn marks of her weapon on his skin when he woke up – just to sooth the others’ injuries with words of regret and begging for forgiveness, gentle touches that with time gradually turned into passionate love-making. Kylo tried to resist the temptation for months, the Jedi and Sith teachings of eschewing physical pleasures guarding his every thought, still, but he figured that he didn’t have to excuse himself in his own dream anymore – after all, he was his own master now. As he slowly gave in, he only could hope that these were his dreams only and not shared ones because he learned to play her imagined body patched together from his memories like the morning briefings, and _oh,_ he never missed a detail in those. _There is only passion._ It was a perfect stalemate. A maddening stalemate. Both entwined in the exact opposite version of the same vision – standing together. Two parallels meeting in the infinite of the universe.

Snapping out of this short trail of thought, Kylo focused again on the briefing lead by Hux. He still hated him, he still felt some kind of defiance hiding within Hux and he never missed an opportunity to dig into his mind just to see what he was thinking. Force-choking him into submission was his habit for the first months after he declared himself Supreme Leader, but with time he figured out that this ginger man was _hopelessly_ egoistic and alluring to his vanity did wonders in making him pliant. Giving him more control over the troops, some special development project here and there or turning a blind eye on his sinning in a brothel from time to time was all he needed to make Hux at least tolerate him without plotting a major coup. Hux – sadly – was a great strategist, Kylo had to give that to him, but he couldn’t wait the day the irritation he caused within him outgrew the now-Admiral’s usefulness and then he could dispose of him unceremoniously. But for now, almost a year into his rule, he had to settle with this meticulous soldier.

“And at this point,” Hux began to deliver his closing remarks in a self-important voice that made Kylo determined to put him back into his place within the next two minutes, “the air forces are going to make planetfall. By then, the Resistance should be out in the open field and deliver a devastating blow to their ground forces in ensured. After that, if the Supreme Leader so wishes, the situation will be no doubt safe enough for him to enter the battle himself.”

That made him seem like a pussy, Kylo thought. He was not going to be Snoke, that much he promised himself when he first descended to the throne, the absent leader, so old and fragile, barely held together by the thread of the Force that he had to sit on a disproportionately huge chair for most of the time and use amplified holos to intimidate his subordinated into submission. No. He was young, and he was on top of his game, the most powerful Dark Sider there was in the entire galaxy, he would not frown from a little battle, especially if it was this important. So close to victory. He wanted to stand on the battlefield, leading, not watching from above. The risk was low anyway, he was capable of freezing the blasters aimed at him in mid-air and cutting down terrified, untrained rebel scums promised to be entertaining.

“Admiral, you might be afraid of a little groundwork,” he retorted, “I, on the other hand, find myself rather capable of leading my own soldiers into battle. I will deploy with the first wave of the ground units. As for the plan, you always forget to cut off escape routes first. Engage the first wave of cloaked TIE fighters and destroy their hangar. Then the ground units will be covered by the air force by the time they hit the ground. We don’t take prisoners, except for the Jedi girl and senior officials. I want to make an example of executing them in front of their own people. Maybe that will bend the remaining Resistance-supporting planets to our will in the Outer Rim too. Any remarks on this, Admiral?”

Hux pressed his lips together. Ren’s plan was actually good. Better than his and this put him at unease. Maybe he read his mind and that’s how this lousy strategist improved day by day, but he had to admit, this made sense. Missing the usual edge of his remarks, he simply replied: “No, Supreme Leader”.

“Good.” Kylo stood up from the table. “The faces and names of the desired targets will be fed into the system. Once identified, the first priority is capture, but – of course – if this proves to be inefficient, do not hesitate to kill them. Take your posts. You are dismissed.”

Of course, Kylo had no death wish to leave his back at the mercy of Hux while he was on the field. Going to his personal working area, he immediately made contact with two of his fiercest Knights.

Lighting up on the holo-screen, the familiar face of a strikingly beautiful female Twi’lek and the tattooed face of Mirialian woman showed up. It was strange that his two cold-blooded assassins were both females when the gender composition of his Knights was so balanced. Apparently, he had a soft spot for strong women, women who delivered. Must be his mamma-issues. To his defense, both earned their place on merits.

“Gidaa’fan, Jiriss, take your posts on the _Annihilation._ You know what you have to do.”

“Yes, Master,” they replied obediently in unison with a small nod. Soon, they would be here to supervise Hux and Kylo couldn’t wait to feel the dread slide down on the Admiral’s spine with the two Knights clad in black from head to toe like risen guards of the hereafter, standing silently behind him, reading his mind and observing his every move, ordered to strike the minute they sense something suspicious.

*

Finn entered Poe’s office. His skin immediately broke out in goosebumps as some hissing sound came from beneath the dome-shaped drapes standing on the table. Three to be exact. “What is this sound?” he asked with a shiver. “This… this is the sweet sound of victory,” Poe replied with a smirk and stepping to the objects, he lifted the veils, revealing three gold-yellow lizards, lazily hissing at their surrounding in small cages, their four eyes scanning the environment. “Maker, they are disgusting,” Finn blurted out. “Oh, I’ve grown rather fond of them,” Poe batted away his remarks. “You _grew_ found of them? For how long do you have them already?” Finn didn’t like the way this story was spinning out, every other minute a new secret revealed. “About one week, to be exact,” Poe dutifully provided the information. “Where did you get them, and anyway, what are these?” Finn stepped closer to the creatures to investigate them. He had to get used to their closeness after all. “These are ysalamiri. They create a Force-neutral bubble around them, in at least ten meters, but in crowd, this can stretch up to a few kilometers. Sadly, we only could get three, so the range is going to be about twenty meters.” Finn nodded. He would have to be close to that bastard then. “You still didn’t tell me how you got them,” he reminded Poe. “Well, about that… Do you remember when we spotted the First Order scouts?” he asked. “Yeah, what about them?” Finn looked at Poe in surprise. “They had a smuggler who was leading them in the area and this smuggler happened to be a member of the Talon Karrde circles. The dude used to be an ally of Han Solo and well… he had a tiny little hint that the organization is breeding ysalamiri again. The thing about these creatures is that they do not survive being separated from their trees, only Karrde knew how to do it and they recently re-discovered his methods. So ysalamiri are back on the black market and Karrde’s gang is getting richer than rich. Their price was insane. But it is worth it. This is the only way we can defeat Kylo Ren and the Knights.” Finn nodded and turned back his attention to the creatures. They did not seem to be harmful, still, he felt like suffocating. Better make this quick. “Tell me about the plan,” he turned to Poe again.

The pilot lit up a holo-screen, projecting their surroundings. “We expect the First Order to land around this area,” he gestured with his index finger, “this is the only option. Our source tells us that Kylo Ren will be with his troops, he is a hothead and thinks himself invincible apparently. So your goal is, after spotting him, to encircle him with two of your mission members. You have to get close, but Ren cannot shoot at you anyway with that ridiculous saber of his. Just distract him until you get close enough and stun him. Don’t kill him.” Poe turned his gaze to Finn’s black eyes, giving weight to his words. “Why not?” he almost shouted in disbelief. “I don’t understand! If we have this one chance, who not take him out?” “That’s exactly what I was asking when we discussed it with Leia. But she was the opinion that if we want to establish a new world order, Kylo Ren has to be tried as a war criminal in the fair and public trial to give the galaxy the right example. This is true. But also, he is still her son, no matter what she says and I don’t think she could bear the idea of giving the kill order herself. You have to respect this. We do not play the way the First Order plays.” He paused. “But then again, Leia didn’t say _exactly_ how we should _treat_ our prisoner, you know.” This time, there was a little nervousness, a dark undertone in his voice. “As long as he lives, and can be tried, he is in our hands. Yours and mine. And we both owe him a friendly reminder of his hospitality.” Poe’s jaw clenched. Finn felt the sweet taste of revenge surge up in him again. _Yes, this was necessary. This was the right thing._

The door hissed open and two other rebel soldiers entered. “Commanders, at your service, Sirs,” the men saluted Poe and Finn. “At ease,” Poe replied. “Finn, these are Migucull and Jergab, used to be special forces soldiers on their home planet. They will back you up, but you are in charge of the operation.” He turned to the two men again. “Guys, these here are the ysalamiri. Without further ado, you need to encircle Kylo Ren from three sides. You will get about twenty meters of distance, then you have to stun him and take him. Once the operation is complete, fall back immediately. Clear?” “Yes, Sir.” “These creatures will block him from using the Force, but nevertheless, be quick, we don’t know if he has a blaster on him.” “Yes, Sir.” Poe turned to Finn. “Let’s do this?” he asked his eyes boring into Finn’s. “Let’s do this,” he agreed.

*

Kylo Ren might have thought of himself as resourceful, but Hux was not a fool either. Patience and planning were his strongest traits, winner of several marathons in his younger years in training, he knew the art of waiting for the right moment. Timing was everything. Ren wasn’t particularly careful in giving himself away, his face always an exact mirror of his feelings – no wonder he wore that stupid mask all the time before. He might have been Supreme Leader but he hasn’t earned that spot. There were a lot of things Hux didn’t agree with in his style of leadership, thinking him to be too soft and remarkably politician-like. And there was this thing with the _Force._ He shivered at that thought. There was no hiding from it, he was sure that his brain has suffered physical damages from the repeated mind-reading when he _felt_ Ren push himself into the grey curls of his cerebrum and _rip_ information from it. He hated this when Snoke did it, but it was easy to accept it, Ren, however… He wasn’t larger than life, too human-like, too much like him and too _inferior_ to him. He was the better strategist, the better planner, the person who was capable of running an _entire Empire_ on data sheets. Because he was efficient and a born soldier, a born leader. Ren on the other hand… pathetically alone. He made sure in the first months of his leadership when things were still unsettled and violence would be used to demonstrate the power, to be present every time he threw a tantrum and sooth the Stormtroopers afterward. He was sneaking in his path, building the reputation of the good cop and most importantly, trying to win Phasma’s support. The latter proved to be more difficult than anything.

Hux was pleased with the fact that he gradually gained more footing as Ren allowed him more and more space, always kept in check, of course, but it was a promising sign. He sometimes didn’t right-out _despise_ Ren, he sometimes just _hated_ him simply. Careful to always stay in line, he tried to win Ren’s trust too – a futile attempt, but enough to scrap himself some alone time.

Ren’s web of intelligence around the Resistance was impressive, and Hux couldn’t quite understand why they haven’t eradicated them already. They precisely knew by now how many ships they had newly purchased through their underworld connections – probably the legacy Ren’s smuggler father – they had a rough estimate of their strength and their possible allies. They were in their grasp, still, Ren was sitting and waiting. _Waiting for what?_ Maybe that Jedi girl was the reason. Eight Praetorian guards, Kylo Rend _and_ the Supreme Leader (he still thought of Snoke as _the_ Supreme Leader), taken down by an untrained Jedi girl… highly unlikely. He got the smell of something in that room when he walked in on Ren. It was the smell of treason.

Hux was loyal to only himself and the _idea_ of the First Order, and this new “Supreme Leader” was quietly _betraying_ the cause of the First Order in plain sight with his side maneuvers. All stunts. He had to do something about it, all for the noble cause, of course, and maybe as a side benefit for his own.

Good things come to those who wait, Hux knew that, and eventually, when word got around that they have spotted the Resistance’s base in the Outer Rim, he knew what he had to do.

One thing about dwelling in brothels is that you really can get in touch with all kinds of underworld people, especially smugglers, but whores are a well of information too if you play nice and tip enough. Hux had sick desires, he knew that (that was the main reason why he had to settle with prostitutes instead of Stormtroopers, like everyone else) but he also had an eye for choosing his partners wisely.

But of course, Hux was no moron. Any thought of this planning, every memory had to be erased, otherwise, Ren would just simply rip it from his mind and then his head from his neck. He couldn’t ask one his Knights to compel him to forget, so he turned to the one and only Force-wielding creatures he knew of – the witches of Dathomir. It was violent, a pain that made him appreciate Ren’s methods in hindsight, but effective, leaving him with a pleasant haze where his plans were stored. Hux was a misogynist but being on this trail for months, with clenched teeth he had to admit – women run the world. 

Of course, at that moment, Hux didn’t remember any of this. He settled with the sour feeling of being bested in strategy by kriffing Kylo Ren and took his post on the bridge of the _Annihilation._ Soon, the doors slid open and the two Knights of Ren ghosted behind him close enough to send the chills down his spine.

_We are in position, my Lord,_ Gidaa’fan thought into the Force.

_Good. Watch him intently._

*

The TIE fighters made planetfall cloaked. The Resistance, although suspecting the assault, only got the clue to engage when their ships were already reduced to a heap of junk. How convenient that they stored their ships in two separate hangars and only the older models were on display, as a lure. Leia was a genius mastermind, Poe thought. Fighting on a planet was strange to him, but he took off more bloodthirsty than ever. “This is Black Leader, all members in position. Let’s make it worth their while, shall we? Right wing, burn sky then make planetfall from above, leader is Black Two, left wing, follow me, ground support. Fangs out, pilots!”

He switched the lines to Finn. “Green Leader, I have a visual on the enemy ground forces, at the presumed location. Landing now.” “Roger that, Black Leader. Operation in place. Good hunt!” Finn was sweating already, the ysalamir hissing in his backpack, apparently picking up on the overall agitation of the battle. Indeed, as Poe has suggested, the First Order _Atmospheric Assault Landers_ touched the ground a good distance from them vomiting out the Stormtroopers in perfectly synchronized lines, their TIE fighters immediately covering them. This ain’t no fun, he thought. “Green One and Green Two in position,” he yelled into their radio frequency. They were falling behind their front lines, the snowmen collapsing as their missiles hit them, their places filled with one long step from their comrades, a never-ending white wave, unstoppable.

Finally, the tall figure clad in black appeared at the door of the ship, casually walking down the ramp with an unmoved face, dodging the blasters and reflecting them back to their origins and now the dogfight started in earnest, his soldiers catching on the scent of blood like a bewildered Dire-cat. Finn had to admit that Kylo Ren on the field made the Stormtroopers fight with an unseen ferocity. He froze in his tracks for a few heartbeats, but then shook down his stupor and launched forward, eyes on the target slashing and shooting his way through the field to him.

*

Rey was feeling vulnerable without her lightsaber every day, but especially in combat. It didn’t help that she was assigned to the Black Squadron, now under the code-name of Black Two, leading half of the X-Wings straight out of the planet to return once all the TIE fighters were engaged in battle. They couldn’t risk another wave coming in undetected.

It was hard to concentrate when _he_ was around. She felt his presence in the Force, clearer than ever before. Both were working on keeping their bond shut and it was falling into place perfectly, until the night came and she cried herself to sleep, mourning something that could have been. That vision she saw – all evidence pointed towards of it being merely an illusion, a cruel joke of the Force, never to be real. Sometimes, in her darkest hours, she would close her eyes and take his hand in her dream right after he whispers her oh-so gently, _please,_ their lips touching on that inglorious battlefield, right above the dead bodies and there is no stopping that fire that catches spark then, and _hell_ , she doesn’t give two bantha ticks about decomposing Snoke or Praetorian Guards when she would climb that tall man like she used to do with old ships on Jakku, yanking on his soft, black hair to shove her tongue deeper, and in this dream he would swipe off Snoke’s body from the ridiculously overgrown chair with the Force like dust and take her right there on the spot, sealing their glorious victory with carnal moans of _love._

Self-loathing would hit her then in the morning, shame wrecking her body and she would try to purge herself with training and meditation, just to re-live the exact same frames a week or two later.

But those were just dreams.

Right now, there was a battle to win.

A new wave of TIE fighters was descending on the planet already and Rey took a sharp left in their direction. “This is Black Two, all ships into position. Prevent them from getting in the blue,” she ordered. Being in charge was still new to her, but the countless simulations and months spent in the air with her crew made sure that despite all her nervousness she acted out of muscle memory. Her X-Wing engaged in a series of whirls, as the enemy ships realized they had incoming. Rey rattled into their formation from the side, opening fire and so did the other resistance pilots. The TIEs were easy to maneuver, but it still took them precious seconds to turn their firepower towards the unexpected defense lines – seconds which made them lose a significant portion of their fleet.

Rey was already in the middle of the whirlwind, tapping into the Force to predict the TIE pilots’ actions. Her ship _ducked_ and then _fell_ and in an impossible move just _turned in place_ the missiles aimed at her taking out someone else – Resistance or First Order, she had no idea, the death in the Force all the same. This feeling was something she couldn’t learn how to neutralize, even if she felt it countless times. She was high on adrenaline right now, but she knew the feelings were going to come crashing down on her all at once after she was going to get out of the pilot seat.

They succeed in preventing the TIE fighter from making planetfall, shielding their other half of the fleet.

“Black Three, check your six,” she is yelling, but it’s too late, her comrade is blown into a million small pieces – no time to mourn, she takes out the enemy pilot in revenge.

Then, she is in her zone. Almost single-handedly she wipes out the remaining TIE fighters, showing no mercy or second thought. When the last ship is reduced to debris floating around, the _Finalizer_ is uncloaked above their head.

*

_Just a few more steps_ , Finn thinks and checks if his comrades are in the right distance on the map blinking in his hand. He sees them on the field, hiding behind the dead bodies, crawling to remain undetected.

Kylo Ren is a black-crimson hurricane, taking down everything that comes his way, almost his own soldiers as they stand between him and his enemies. It is a fascinating and intimidating sight all at once, and Finn almost feels sorry for him. Because what is about to happen is certainly going to be very inglorious for Kylo Ren.

He gives the sign with his hand, _cover us,_ he yells into their designated radio frequency and they advance from three sides all at once, running in perfect synchrony.

Kylo’s head suddenly turns as he senses the traitor in the Force. _FN-2187._ He smirks. “Do you have a death wish, Traitor?” he yells at him from the distance, dodging the blasters aimed at him like flicking off flies. He is almost in a good mood.

Finn stops, but his comrades advance, he knows he has to distract Ren until they close in upon their target from behind. He stops, straightens himself to his full height. “I thought it was you who came to die today,” he retorts and he pulls the same weapon from the hand of a dead Stormtrooper that he defeated Phasma with and slides into opening stance as Rey taught him.

Upon recognizing the posture, Kylo scoffs. He spots the slight mistake in the angle of the foot, the same mistake that Rey has. “You know your teacher never got this form right in the first place,” he still roars from the distance as he advances on Finn. _This is going to be short-lived, Traitor_.

Kylo is about to launch his attack, when a sudden shrill rip through his skull, freezing him in his tracks. Then a blaster hits him on his shoulder and he feels his brain exploding. He staggers, struggling to make out what’s changed so quickly, extending his hand to halt the next missile flying towards him, but it doesn’t obey and hits his thigh and he collapses on his knee, still enveloped in the unbearable screeching and now he wants to just _shout_ and rip off his ears because the sound _hurts_ , actually more than his wounds and the last thing he sees is the face of FN-2187 who is suddenly towering above him with a disgusting triumphant smile as he aims his blaster at him and says _I told you, today you came to die ---_ and then it’s just blackness.

*

Finn grabs Kylo by his shoulders, the other two helping him drag the huge, lump body from the field, covered by the fire of their units. He contacts Poe. “I need an airlift, Black Leader, target down!” he yells so Poe can hear it, the microphone is not in an ideal position. “Copy that, Green Leader, sending help now.” He flicks the frequency and gives the order to a freighter, which is soon descending near Finn and the two other men dragging Kylo’s body. Three X-Wings are assigned to guard the operation and soon they vanish in the belly of the ship that lifts without hesitation.

Once Ren has been dragged aboard, Finn hastily binds his ankles and wrists into the purchased imperial binders, even interlacing them behind his back with a chain. _You will not move, Kylo Ren._ They pull him into one of the cargo rooms and lock the door, placing the ysalamiri carefully close enough to cover all inches of their makeshift cell.

Finn calls. “General, the mission is complete. I repeat, the mission is complete.” Leia takes a few seconds to answer. “Great job, Green Leader. Evacuation protocol starts. Meet us at the new coordinates. Godspeed, and clear skies.” “Roger that, General. See you soon.”

Taking a deep breath, he allows himself to relax for the first time since the battle started once they reach hyperspace a few seconds later. His eyes meet that of his mission members and they blurt out in frantic shouts of victory.

*

“All units, fall back to the new coordinates. I repeat all units fall back to the new coordinates.” Leia’s voice snaps Rey out of her concentration as she is leading the operation to shave off the _Finalizer’s_ defense system. The new data is blinking in their encrypted channel, still, she thinks it’s a risky thing to broadcast it so openly. They have lost, then. _Kriff._ A command is a command.

“This is Black Leader, Black Two and crew go ahead, see you there,” Poe’s words come through after a few seconds only.

Rey yells then “Black Two section, regroup and get lines!” She pulls up from the surface of the Finalizer and before the enormous ship could realize what they are up to, they are already in hyperspace.

*

Gidaa’fan and Jiriss stiffen as if one body. The presence of their Lord in the Force disappears. The operation has been uneventful so far, but this sudden change leaves them startled. They glance at each other. Surely, the others do not know yet. They still have a few seconds to decide what to do. If Kylo Ren is down, then Gidaa’fan is the leader of the Knights, so they have agreed, but it is not certain yet and they have a duty to watch his back. The next second, Jiriss extends her hand and force-chokes Hux, while the Twi’lek bores into his mind unceremoniously, his cries muffled as his airways are crushed by the other Knight’s grip.

“Nothing,” she declares with a cold surprise and Jiriss lets Hux fall to the ground. “He had no hand in this.” This leaves them right out terrified. They could kill him, of course, but why to do this if he hasn’t betrayed Kylo Ren? They never discussed this. It is not their fight then anymore. Paralyzed with the indecision they remain unmoved and just as Hux comes to himself, the news is ripping through all channels.

“We have lost visual of the Supreme Leader. I repeat, Supreme Leader possibly down. Resistance base has evacuated to an unknown location.”

The pleasant rush of blood and air mingled with this news sends Hux on a high. _Long live the Supreme Leader_ , he smirks and when he stands up, he is not the man that can be bullied into submission and endures everything anymore, no, because he is the new Emperor of the First Order and he could have the Knights executed for what they have done. There is a predatory smile on his face as he locks eyes with the unmoved masks.

“I believe the roles have changed,” he hisses and with a flick of his hand orders the Stormtroopers to encircle the Knights. The two warriors do not wince at all, they know that a few dozen of those ridiculous puppets is not able to stop them. Still, the situation is confusing.

_Whatever happens,_ Gidaa’fan thinks into the Force, addressing her partner, _we are not going to pledge allegiance to this worm. I’d rather dance for Jabba the Hutt than be at the service of this bantha fodder._ Jiriss smirks under her mask. _Of course not, sister._

“I believe you think that now you are the new Supreme Leader,” Gidaa’fan speaks and her words are even more chilling as they seep through the voice modulator than they normally would be, “but may I remind you that you hold no power over the Knights of Ren. We do not operate within your chain of command.”

Hux wants to slap that mask so hard, but instead, he steadies himself. His word is law now.

“That might be the case, Knight, but may I remind you that neither are you entitled to Force-choke the Supreme Leader. I believe your little stunt is punishable by death now.”

“If you think those soldiers of yours could take us down, I suggest you reconsider, Admiral.” Jiriss answers.

Gritting his jaw upon calling him by his _old_ title (how a few seconds can change a life!), Hux glares at the two females with a hate that could burn down a whole planet. It is a stalemate, for now, they could kill him in an instant and take over the ship without much effort and he is not going to lose his head – either literally or figuratively speaking – when he just secured his position on the top of the galaxy.

“What do you want, then?” he grunts.

“How generous of you, given that your life is at our mercy right now” Gidaa’fan muses, as she voices aloud his thoughts. “I suggest that we leave each other alone then, for now. But may I tell you, Admiral, if I catch so much as a suspicion that you had a hand in this, we will come for you and your death will be nothing compared to a Memory Walk.”

Hux involuntarily shudders at those words. He only had one or two minutes of Memory Walk when he colossally fucked up, but he still woke up screaming sometimes when he dreamt of that.

“You will leave our worldcraft and that system alone and allow us to train new Siths. You are obliged to send us any new recruits that are suspected to be Force-sensitive. We will move freely in First Order territory, unquestioned.” She pressures with the Force, compelling Hux to agree.

“I will leave your worldcraft and the surrounding system alone and allow you to train new Siths. I am obligated to send you any new recruits that are suspected to be Force-sensitive. You will move freely in First Order territory, unquestioned,” Hux repeats with an unmoved gaze.

“Anything else?” the Twi’lek turns to her partner. “Maybe ensuring our supplies would be nice.” Jiriss contemplates. “Oh, right.” Gidaa’fan turns to Hux again and continues her dictation.

“The First Order will ship us immediately any supplies that we require upon request. And award us infinite credits.” Jiriss can’t help but _snort_ at that. “You are fucking greedy, Gidaa’fan.” “What can I say? Modesty was never one of my strong traits, was it?” she shrugs her shoulders.

Hux repeats back the sentence again and as he snaps out his trance, he growls like a cornered dog.

“Get the hell out of here, you bastards! And don’t ever set a foot on my ship.”

“Oh, Admiral, it must be nice to still believe in fairytales,” Jiriss answers, but nonetheless turns her back in synchrony with Gidaa’fan as they begin to leave. “Long live the Supreme Leader!” the Twi’lek shouts behind her back with a tangible mock, holding up her right hand, and Hux thinks that he might be hallucinating, but no, her _middle finger is stretched_ as they leave the ship to take their and Kylo Ren’s personal _Upsilon-_ class command shuttle as a loot.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my gift for Valentine's exchange for two prompts! :) 
> 
> _First prompt:_ "After a skirmish, Kylo is captured and fitted with something that stops him from using his Force abilities. Members of the Resistance want revenge and torture the Knight (please no removing of limbs, teeth, etc). When Rey finally finds the Resistance's dark secret, locked away and in desperate need of medical attention, she realizes monsters can be on both sides of the fight." Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant
> 
> _Second prompt:_ "Dark!Rey fics, Kylo Ren redemption, action and battle scenes that lead to better understandings, hurt and comfort, and anything bizarre that brings them together." Tags: Kylo Ren Redemption, Dark Side Rey, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Shameless Smut, Force Bond (Star Wars)
> 
> Story in development, sorry that I couldn't finish the whole thing on deadline. But I promise, there will be all of the tags from both fics. ;)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **References**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [Mirialan names](http://exonoma.com/category/far-away/mirialan/)  
> [Ysalamir](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Ysalamir)  
> [Dire-cat](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Dire-cat)  
> [Atmospheric Assault Lander](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Atmospheric_Assault_Lander)  
> [Memory Walk](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Memory_Walk)  
> Gidaa’fan: Gida (female warrior) Afan (between the goddess and the ground), this one is my own creation, based on  
> [Twi'lek names](http://twileklore.nimanet.org/?page_id=20)  
> In the blue: TIE pilot expression meaning "operating in planetary atmosphere.
> 
> Get lines: A bomber crew term for disengaging and jumping to hyperspace.
> 
> Fangs out: A TIE fighter pilot idiom meaning "eager for a dogfight."
> 
> Bantha fodder: The equivalent of "worthless"; a person or thing deemed to have no value beyond something for a bantha to graze on.
> 
> Emperor's snowmen: Alternate name for stormtroopers thought up by Ezra Bridger.


	2. Two Sides of the Same Coin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know,” he raised his voice as Poe already turned his back to leave the cell, “I thought that Rey could have been a great student of mine, but as it turns out, you are already following my methods so diligently, Dameron. Maybe I should have tried to recruit you, instead.”
> 
> “You will see that I have my own methods, Kylo Ren,” Poe hissed and then dodging him with disgust and contempt left as suddenly as he came, this time taking the emergency lamp with him, leaving their prisoner in complete darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I obeyed my prompt (see in the notes of the first chapter) so there are pretty nasty things happening in this chapter. I have updated the tags accordingly! I tried not to go into too much detail, but still, if it is of a concern for anyone: in this chapter, Kylo Ren gets the prisoner treatment and remember he wasn't gentle either.

It was eerie calm as they made planetfall. The earth beneath them played in gray-brown, the weak sun barely above the horizon and in the faint morning light, it was impossible to say what was covered by fog and what was water as the air heavy with humidity pooled between the shallow mountains. The agriworld was covered in a precise patchwork of fields – rich and saint in the times of war, protected by the shared interest of all parties to ensure their alimentation. _We would be safe here_ , Finn thought as they approached the coordinates of an abandoned agricultural hangar. It was the off-season on this side of the planet and while the crops carefully planted in the earth reposed to break out in the spring the population gathered on the other side to make a living.

When they landed, Finn checked on Kylo. He was still unconscious and just to be sure, he injected him with a tranquilizer before he descended the ramp to meet Leia. Poe and Rey were still somewhere in hyperspace, soon to join them.

Leia’s heart was heavy as she watched Finn approach. She knew that it was the right thing but she couldn’t bring herself to look at her son, the boy she remembered long turned into a man. A man that bent the better part of the galaxy to its knees. Capturing him was necessary but she no longer planned to try to turn him back from the road he went down. It would have been a futile attempt. They now had to extract from him every information they could. Leia thought of this as amputating a severely injured limb to save one’s life. Knowing what might lie ahead for her son fell no easier to her than cutting off her own arm. But she couldn’t walk back the road she chose either – she was the General of the Rebellion and if turning on her irredeemable son was what it took to win the war, then she had to do it. One life – albeit the dearest to her – versus the hundreds, the millions that could be saved… She was ready to make that sacrifice. Straightening her back, she shoved her churning hear aside. A leader. That’s what she was. _The_ leader.

“General,” Finn greater her with a short salute, “the target is safely locked up in the ship. I wanted to ask you what we should do with him.” He felt that is was not easy for her to speak as she started to form the words.

“Take him into one of the old utility cells underground.” Deep inhale. Pause. _Necessary._ Exhale. “Make him talk.” Hesitation. “But able to walk.”

Finn nodded. He held her gaze, filled with so much determination and so much pain. He understood the difficulty of the situation. The Sacrifice. If Leia were to turn back now, the death of Han Solo, everything she ever lost for the cause of the rebellion would have been in vain. She turned on her heels without saying another word and she hastily joined the planning team to arrange the settling-in of the forces.

He felt the urge to get this done as quickly as possible, unable to watch her silent suffering any second longer. He noticed it the way she carried herself, her back a little less straight than usual, less proud, bent under the weight of this secret they kept from everyone except for a very few people. The others were already unloading everything, cheerful that they got lost the First Order, not even suspecting that Kylo Ren himself lay unconscious just a few steps away from them.

Getting back into the ship, he searched for the biggest box available. “Migucull! Jergab! Help me with this please.” They moved the huge container. “What is this for?” one of them asked. “We cannot drag Kylo Ren through the whole base, you know. This is still a secret. You may not talk about this to anyone, understand?” “Yes, Sir.” They replied in unison. “Good. Now let’s get him into this box. Then we carry him into one of the cells.”

Finn opened the door, carefully placing the ysalamiri cages to the side so they could place the container in the room. Kylo was lying on his side awkwardly, his hands bound behind his back, reclining on his face on the ground. They grabbed him and somehow managed to arrange his body in the box, placing one ysalamir on his stomach, then stuffed the two others back in their backpacks. Finn bore some holes into the lid of the container so air got through. No need to suffocate him prematurely, he figured. Grabbing the case now heavy with Kylo’s body, they made their way into the hangar, then underground, until Finn found an abandoned room with a door thick enough to his liking but small enough so it could be covered with the bubble of the ysalamiri. He placed one of the lizards just outside the door and the other two on each side of the room in the neighboring ones. Kylo was not going to get his hands on them so easily. They unloaded him them from the box, and Finn hesitated. Should he let him free, at least to a little more comfortable position? At least untying the chain that connected his legs to the shackles on his wrists? Nope. Kylo would not have done it. Eye for an eye.

“We are done here,” he declared and they shut the door on him, leaving only one emergency lamp in the damp room.

*

Rey softly landed her X-Wing on the designated field alongside with her crew. The others who were already there cheered at them – like it would have been victory, she thought bitterly. They had to take a detour to lose the First Order, hours of battle added to the one near their previous hideout. By now the Black Squadron joined their forces and it was not long before Poe appeared under her ship, where she was examining the damage done.

“Come, Rey, join us,” he softly touched her arm and she turned her gaze from the belly of her ship. It was time for their ritual to remember the fallen. Each unit was mourning their own way – she knew the ground units usually threw some grains into a small hole which they covered immediately – remembering was a nice gesture, meant to provide closure for those left to fight another day, but leaving traces behind would have been stupid.

The pilots, however, did something else. They gathered far away from the base, their planes surrounding them. Already, the wave of the deaths started licking her soul. Step by step, in synchrony with Poe, until the other feet of the fleet members appeared on the edge of her vision. The best she could do was to stare at the ground.

Poe began to deliver his message. Rey barely listened. This time, there was something else in her mind which started to replay every memory of the recent battle where she saw her comrades die. There was some other current underneath, but she couldn’t yet figure it out, not now, when it was her turn to finish their ceremony – then mechanically reached down to the ground as did the others, gathering the dust and she also on auto-pilot channeled the Force to create a wind blowing and slowly opened her fingers, her hand stretched out above her head, the other pilots taking on her clue and the artificial wind blew the molecules out of their hand, until their palms were empty and slightly dirty, like the memory of their lost fighters.

No matter how many times this happened, it never got easier. In silence, they made their way back to the base, numbly handling the cleaning of the ships, inventorying the necessary repairs. Rey felt she was barely holding it together. When the last absolutely mandatory field was checked, she consulted her holo-pad to look for the location of her newly assigned quarter and without hesitation darted towards the room. She needed some alone time to reflect on this strange feeling now that the numbness has started to lift, although she dreaded to face what her inspection might reveal.

The door closed, the quarter was better preserved than she anticipated, and she rolled out her mobile mattress on the bed and threw herself on it. Her tears began to flow like a river, cataloging her lost companions. When the list was complete and she mentally bid them the final goodbye, she noticed that the numbness didn’t stem from their death.

It was pouring out of the Force. That spot, that corner of her mind where she was connected to Kylo --- _Ben_ – burning.

Her breath hitched. Seconds passed and she still didn’t inhale, eyes round.

Was he… was he dead? Or was their bond lost? _At last?_  No, she couldn’t bring herself to think of this as a relief. She should have, but she couldn’t.  

Eventually, she let the dusty air into her lounges.

It was a worrisome event. She desperately wanted to examine more, but reaching out in the Force to search for him was risky, it could have put the whole Resistance in jeopardy. She growled like a caged animal, restraining herself from looking for him with her mind.

Why did she care anyway? It’s been a year now since she last saw him when she shot the Falcon’s door in his face --- no, not in his face, on his _begging eyes._ She buried her face in her pillow in dismay. There was nothing else she could have done at that moment. She offered him to _help,_ not to drag him back to the light against his will. That would have been impossible anyway. Apparently, she herself was not enough to make him turn. So she shut their bond and went about her business, against him as did he against her.

But even if they kept their connection closed, it was a reassuring feeling that he was still there somewhere, that she still wasn’t alone with her burden as the only Force-user in her surrounding, that somewhere there was another person just like her she knew --- and bitterly she had to admit to settling for calling _Kylo Ren_ the closest to a support in Force-matters because there was no one else left she could call even a resemblance to familiar.

The possibility of losing him clenched her more than it should have.

Without him, even if they were on complete adversary sides of an intergalactic war, she would be alone. After all, he was the only one who _swore_ her that she wasn’t anymore.

Shouldn’t she let Leia now though? If Ben was dead then she would feel it too, like they both felt Luke die. But Leia didn’t say anything and Rey decided that he was still alive but somehow managed to sever the bond.

As painful as it was, it was for the benefit for the Resistance and giving away her secret that all this time she has been connected to their biggest threat would have put her into a delicate situation. She didn’t want to lose her newly found family.

Sleep now was crawling to her as she wiggled herself into the blanket and closed her eyes to drift off.

*

He gingerly came to his senses like waking from a deep sleep as the effects of the tranquilizer wore off. He tried to stir, but he couldn’t. Oh, right – _today you came to die._ Maybe he unconsciously did. Maybe, it was just all too much and maybe that’s why he sought out danger all his life. Hoping that one unattended moment would put his misery to an end. It’s only a _maybe_ because every time he got too close, his survival instincts kicked in and soon he couldn’t stop himself from doing his customary inventory of the situation, his mind already at it.

 _Must. Darkness. Pain._ Shrill, _still ongoing. Hands bound. Ankles bound. Chain._ Movement nearly impossible. He traced the outline of the cuffs with his fingers. _Imperial binders_. Two blaster wounds: shoulder and thigh. Bleeding stopped, but unattended, not infected though. _Not yet._

A small room, no bigger than his first living space when he joined Snoke. No bed, no sanitary. A faint emergency lamp. No natural light, no day-cycle. _This is going to fuck him up._

Thick door with a small window on it. _An improvised cell._

Trying the Force. _Still blocked_. No weapon. _Of course._ He is going to miss his saber, his own making.

Hissing comes from behind the door. _Ysalamir_. _Clever_ , he smiles bitterly.

Then he proceeds mapping out the inevitable. He would go five days without drinking, and maybe a week or so without eating. He will be dizzy without water, his thinking will slow. His body is going to consume his muscles right away, as he barely has any body fat. He wished he had some, cursing himself for being so efficient all the time. He mused as he remembered how Rey had to force herself to look into his eyes when she accidentally saw him shirtless. _I have at least_ that _going for me,_ and again that ironic smile. Oh, this would be ungracious. Starved nearly to death, beaten up. Maybe killed, maybe tried. _Mother must be near,_ he thinks but reaching out to the Force is a failed attempt and his mouth twitches _how laughable_.

So this --- this is what it feels like to be _normal. Average._ This is what it feels like to be _powerless. Defenseless._ He hasn’t known average his whole life. Only special and exceptional and the _best._ He was proclaimed all that before he even deserved it and trying not to disappoint he only worked even harder to live up to the expectations.

He should have foreseen this moment. He should have remembered the fear that ate itself into the heart of his mother when he came to his powers. He should have remembered that she was determined. But somehow, deep down, he wished she would just be his mother. His current situation was a proof that he never _had_ a mother --- only a General who happened to have a son. _Is she going to come to see me_ now _?,_ he wondered because he was the Supreme Leader of Self-Loathing, it was so easy to walk down this path, he long learned that pain was a catalyst, _or at least my dead, disfigured body,_ because he was the _best at everything_ and why make an exception when it came to despising himself.

At least, some support from his Knights would have been nice, but they cannot sense him in the Force and must think he is dead. As does Hux. If things continue this way, they will not be so wrong.

Once he calmed down by accepting what was about to come inevitably, he felt braver. There was a certain allure in knowing your faith, in not allowing your enemy to get a hold of you by surprise. He almost felt in control, an illusion of willingly submitting himself to their plans. Crime and punishment. Maybe he _needed_ punishment because lately, remorse was eating away his soul.

Steps echoed outside of his cell. Judging by the sound, it was a long corridor. He counted their paces to calculate the length, _but what for, really, not like he could run in this state_ , at least two people, _probably the Traitor is one of them, looking up his precious cargo, the other…_

Poe opened the door. _Yeah, Dameron._

There was more luminosity now, blinding him first, but as his eyes adapted he saw that the pilot must have come straight out of combat as he was wearing his uniform, his hair a mess from sweating hours in the helmet. This meant that only a few hours could have passed since he was captured. Good, that was a start. For a second, he wondered whether he would stop taking note mentally from every little information that got to him --- he was going to turn into a pathetic lexicon like 3CPO right before his death.

“I didn’t realize we had the best pilot of the First Order with us,” Poe offered and there was a rasp, a scorning laugh dying in Kylo’s throat.

“I see you do not only steal my handcuffs, you also steal my jokes now, Dameron” he retorted like it was not him awkwardly bound by every limb, completely at their mercy.

“I will be stealing so much more from you, you know,” Poe snapped back with a sinister smile, savoring their reversed positions --- and he couldn’t have possibly meant Rey, not like she was to be stolen from him, she never was his, but still --- anyway it was inappropriate and highly inefficient to think about that right now --- he just couldn’t help it --- shoving the thought aside he calmly replied:

“I am not giving you anything” --- and _crap_ now he was back in that interrogation room --- he really shouldn’t have thought of her, not in this situation, now it has set him on a false track --- is she around somewhere anyway, he didn’t even consider this before --- but before he could be distracted even more by that trail of thought Poe’s reply sent the chills down his spite in earnest:

“We’ll see.”

And – because he was a fool with a death wish – he now _chuckled._ It was too surreal to re-enact this exact conversation too.

Poe was startled. He was sure Kylo went mad prematurely. Too bad, because he is going to get every information there is hidden in him.

“I’m glad you thought that was funny,” he fumed irritated, “but you talk too much for my taste. Let’s see how you hold up down here, I’ll come to see you soon.”

That’s it? No beating up yet? Kylo was almost _disappointed._ Dameron was weaker than him, first, he needed to break him. Time was playing into the resistance’s hands, no doubt.

“You know,” he raised his voice as Poe already turned his back to leave the cell, “I thought that Rey could have been a great student of mine, but as it turns out, you are already following my methods so diligently, Dameron. Maybe I should have tried to recruit you, instead.”

That was tapping into a point within the pilot obviously because he turned and with two long, calm strides he was towering about him. A moment of hesitation then he kicked Kylo in the stomach with a ferocity that made his heavy body jolt and he wanted to throw up right away. Then Poe crouched and grabbed his jet black hair like he wanted to tear it out with his bare hands, forcing his head into an uncomfortable position threatening to break his neck and leaned so close he felt his captor’s hot breath brush against his skin when he spoke.

“You will see that I have my own methods, Kylo Ren,” Poe hissed and then dodging him with disgust and contempt left as suddenly as he came, this time taking the emergency lamp with him, leaving their prisoner in almost complete darkness. Then he covered the small hole on the door with something and Kylo was left in a suffocating void where time would be impossible to tell. He knew this torturing method very well, but what Poe didn’t know that after years of Memory Walks it would take a lot more to break him.

When the sound of their steps died away, Kylo righted himself the best he could. _Smart move,_ he thought angry with himself, then he leaned back against the wall and scratched a small line into the dirt with his nail _._

 _One_.

*

The next time they woke him he jolted at the sensation of ice-cold water splashed all over his body. “Wakie-wakie, Kylo Ren,” the Traitor’s unmistakable voice hit him even more unpleasantly than the wetness. He hated to be wet.

He carefully opened his eyelids in order to avoid the drops falling into his eyes just to see the former Stormtrooper stand in the way with a lamp in his hand. Once he came to himself he closed the door and hung the lamp on a hook which illuminated the whole room. For the first time, he could finally make out his surroundings. It was an old utility cell, wires, and pipes running on the ceiling. Maker, he had a vivid imagination how to make use of them and he feared that so did his captors.

“No peeking, prisoner!” Finn snapped at him. “Eyes on me!” Kylo – for whatever reason – obeyed. He was surprised to see that this man who thought so highly of his moral compass seemed not to be at unease with what he was about to do – to the contrary, there was a bloodthirsty anticipation rolling off him.

“Tell me about the defense system of the First Order,” he continued in a calmer voice. Kylo’s mouth twitched in response and remained silent.

“I am not going to ask you again,” he menaced.

Kylo averted his gaze from his face to the floor but he shouldn’t have because the first hit caught him off-guard. Blood surged in his mouth as the delicate veins in exploded under the weight of Finn’s fist. He spat it out dully.

“Hux is can’t save you now. It’s just us.” he snarled.

Kylo rolled his eyes in irritation. What was wrong with these resistance people, couldn’t they come up with some original lines? Seeking refuge in irony was working out fine for him every time. He didn’t bother to answer what Finn took as a sign of successful intimidation. He ignited his red lightsaber. Somehow this sight was rewarding --- they have succumbed to the Dark Side without even realizing it and a smirk crept across his lips. _Come on, Traitor, show me how well we have programmed you._

He didn’t have to wait long until Finn pushed the humming blade right into his half-healed, half-infected shoulder wound. This time, he screamed out shortly but then braced himself and just panted through gritted teeth, trying to channel his Sith technique to absorb the pain. But there was no Force to channel with now, it was just him and his body, him and his soul which had a considerably thinner stretch without the usual current to support him. Eventually, Finn pulled out.

“How did that feel?” he panted just as much as Kylo. “Because I for hell know that how it feels like.”

Oh, so this was for Starkiller base! He recognized a pattern there, he got his actions mirrored so maybe if he thought back what he did to them he would be able to brace himself for what was coming --- but what for? They still would beat him to the edge of death.

“It felt like a victory,” he threw his head back cockily. “You still are a slave to your programming, Traitor.” Apparently, he was rushing his execution.

But Finn didn’t lose his temper like Poe. Not right away.

“If you think that you can trick me into giving you an easy exist, you are wrong, Kylo Ren. Your death will come agonizingly slowly.” He didn’t want to reveal that they were not allowed to kill him. “I bet you must be uncomfortable bound here for so long. Let me help you.” He stepped to his back and undid the chains connecting Kylo’s feet and his ankles.

“Since you like to peek so much, you got to choose your pipe, Ren.”

“I see we will be on the first-name basis by the end of this, Traitor. Too bad you don’t have a second name though, so I could return you your approaching.” But still, he is taking up on his offer, eyes on the ceiling. Should he look for a safe one that could hold his weight or should he hope to break free? Was there any point to think of a strategy?

Finn didn’t like his hesitation.

“Time’s up, prisoner, which one is it?”

He went for the secure one. They were to hang him on that ceiling, he was sure and if he fell would risk not dying right away but getting paralyzed.  He knew what Stormtroopers were trained to do for extracting information, all the ways one could beat up another being without causing serious damage. “That one,” he said and gestured with his head to a thick pipe.

“Good choice, I may even reward you for being so compliant,” Finn replied. At that point, Poe entered the cell too.

“Right on time, pal, I’ll need your help with this.”

There was some kind of device in Poe’s hand and Kylo could have smiled because yes, it was indeed a device to hang heavy things. Perfectly suited for him. The world tilted and then turned upside down as they lifted his body with the device and he felt the blood rush into his head creating an unpleasant pressure. Then Poe stepped forward and yanked a fabric bag on his head, all he could see was the chiaroscuro of their outlines.

The first ten or twenty hits hurt, then his body went numb. Kylo remembered that he instructed his Stormtroopers to beat up Poe when he captured him. _Eye for an eye._

After a good half an hour, Finn yanked down the bag.

“Still nothing to tell us, murderer?” He face was amusing from upside down, a mouth looking at him and the eyes talking, he lost himself in the absurdity of the sight and forgot to answer.

“Very well then.” The bag was back on his head and the hits began to rain down on his body again until at some point he only heard the ragged breaths of his captors who were also panting from the extortion. _It is a hard job to torture people,_ _I know,_ he wanted to tell them almost in compassion.

He didn’t know when he lost his consciousness, but as he came to himself they were letting him down to the ground.

Finn opened his mouth and forced in a straw, _drink_ , and he again obeyed them but before he really could quench his thirst, he pulled in away and Kylo was left with wet, cold, aching darkness.

His fingers found the wall and marked a line into the dirt.

_Two._

*

He drifted in and out of sleep for what seemed weeks, the wall scratched whenever he found it, but he lost his orientation and his perception of time. By now he realized that instead of keeping track of the days, he kept track of the times he was tortured. Finn and Poe were dragging it out, asking smarter and smarter questions but he refused to answer. He felt the shackles getting looser as he lost weight, his bones were hurting more and more every time as his muscles melted away.

Until one day, the Traitor hummed into his ears coaxingly.

“Listen to us, Kylo. We could end this so easily. Do you think we like to do this to you? _You_ are _forcing_ us to do this. Only if you could provide us the access codes, we would take you to the med bay and all this would be forgotten. Wouldn’t you like that?”

“See, we really are on a first-name basis.” His breath was labored and although his lips were intact he still struggled to form coherent thoughts. “I see that you still do not understand. Hux is going to come for you.”

“Oh, I know you were going to say this --- but as I told you, Hux cannot save you. We are hidden and I doubt that he could find you before you take your last breath. See, without information you are rather useless to us and time is running up, Kylo.”

“No,” he immediately regretted shaking his head because the world started spinning. “Hux is not going to come for _me._ He is going to come for _you.”_ He slowly forced himself to tilt his head so he could look FN-2187 in the eye. “He is not coming because of me. He is coming because he wants power. More than I did. And trust me, he has a determination that will make you wish you had me back on the top of the First Order.”

“You know, that is the first piece of useful information you gave us. You’ll get something to eat tonight.” Finn stood up.

Kylo closed his eyes. He was determined not to give them anything, yet he did. Not like this was something the Resistance couldn’t figure out on their own.  

When the darkness closed in on him again he drifted back to his memories that were eating away his soul in a vortex of madness that made him look forward to the time Finn and Poe arrived to beat him up.

His fingers found the wall to scratch the mark on the wall.

_Sixteen._

_*_

“Don’t you think we should give him a rest?” Finn asked as they were walking away on the corridor.

“I think we just have made progress. Eventually, everyone breaks. We should keep pushing, I know he going to cough up something soon.”

“Did you tell Leia?”

“Well, she said herself we should make him talk but able to walk, that’s what you told me, and as far as I am concerned until he is alive, we are in line. I did not think it as necessary to inform her of our exact methods.” He stopped at the end of the hallway. There was an unspoken understanding between them not to talk about their prisoner outside of the basement. “We agreed on this, Finn. He deserves far worse than we are giving him. He has murdered an entire planet system, not to mention that massacre that you witnessed yourself. He is a monster. He doesn’t deserve our compassion. If we give up now, we give up on everyone we could save.”

Finn nodded. “You are right. Sometimes it just gets hard to do this. But he is right, you know. I was trained for this. When I beat him, I remember how Phasma told me where to hit and where not to. I just hoped that I would never have to make use of this knowledge after I left the First Order.” He averted his gaze on the ground.

Poe grabbed his arms in a reassuring grip, coaxing him to look in his eyes.

“You are doing the right thing, even if the path seems to be bumpy,” his lips curled into a soft smile and his hand gently stoked Finn’s arm. In a ginger voice, he continued, “We are so close to ending this war. We just should keep it up a little longer.”

When his partner agreed, he pulled him out of the corridor, shutting the door securely behind them. Their steps were lighter and faster by the time they reached the hangar.

“Poe, Finn!” Rey cheerfully greeted them. Finn winced but Poe took charge of the situation by quickly embracing their favorite girl into a tight hug. “Hello, flygirl, you look good today!” he purred into her ear and Rey closed her eyes as the sudden happiness of the warm hug filled her. They untangled. “Oh, so now I am a flygirl, Stormpilot!” “You are, ever since you pulled off that operation last time.” “It’s been almost a month now, it’s old news,” she laughed but still turned a little brighter upon hearing the compliment.

She turned her attention to Finn and they also hugged tightly as a long relief washed over them: they have lived another day to be there for each other.

“I will let you two lovebirds enjoy your honeymoon, I have some actual things to attend to, kids,” Poe said upon seeing this. He knew how their initial sympathy blossomed into a deep friendship and as much as he wanted to spend some time with Finn outside of Kylo Ren’s suffocating cell right now, he knew he would have plenty of time for that later on. All he got was a silent smile of thank you before he left them.

“Can you help me untangle some wires in the Falcon? The three robotic brains started to argue again and I need to figure out how to solve their marital issues before the canons leave me hanging in the next fight,” Rey asked with that huge brown eyes of her and who could have said no to _that._

“Of course, peanut,” Finn smiled – though he still didn’t know the first thing about mechanics – and they climbed into the ship, he ahead and Rey behind him, so he couldn’t see Rey’s features darken in nervousness.

“It’s close to the Dejarik table, go ahead, I need to grab some equipment first.” When Finn obeyed and disappeared into the belly of the ship, she took a deep breath and closed the ramp.

She grabbed her toolbox and followed her friend.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something,” Rey began hesitantly after a good quarter hour of instructing Finn to catch her gadgets from the box.

“Tell me.”

They stopped. She was peeking up on him from underneath, knee-deep in wires that she purposefully detangled just to have something to _repair_ before starting her confession. _Come on Rey, you can trust him, he is your friend, just do it._

“Ever since the last fight with the First Order, I feel different. I… I don’t know how to say this, but I just _feel_ that something has happened to Be--- Kylo Ren and I couldn’t decide whether I should tell this Leia or not. She didn’t say anything about him and I don’t know what she feels… You see, when Luke died, we both felt it… and I don’t feel Be—Kylo in the Force anymore and if he has died…” she trailed off, willing her tears to go away, _just keep it factual, Rey, this is a piece of strategic information,_ “so this could influence our chances… and the First Order has been so calm and inactive for some time… or at least I haven’t heard anything new, they haven’t attacked us yet and overall it’s just too calm, which is bizarre because…”

She wanted to breathe in to make herself calm down but she realized that this nervousness was not coming from her. _Shame_ was rolling down from Finn’s faint Force signature in waves, and then she looked at him and there was no mistaking how _mortified_ he was, frozen on his spot.

“Finn, what…” But she couldn’t finish her sentence because she was already in the _head_ of her _best friend_. She couldn’t control herself, not when it came to this, not when it’s been thirty days and thirty-one nights on which she was torn over what to do, mapping out her life without Ben Solo or even Kylo Ren in this universe, over trying to find an explanation _how_ it was even _possible_ for someone to kill him at all, when he was so mighty, when he was so powerful and well-protected --- over that last time she felt him near on the planet and knew that he has been in the fight too --- was this going to be her last memory of him? The unredeemed Supreme Leader Kylo Ren? _She couldn’t do it,_ a permanent burn mark on her soul ---- but there was absolutely no time for her thoughts because she was in Finn’s head inelegantly searching through his mind and when she found it her eyes widened and her whole body trembled and those tears came now, unstoppable and there was something else --- her heart shattered into pieces --- _how could you --- you above everyone --- how could she --- how could he --- what --- THAT --- horrible --- no --- no --- no --- I can’t --- I can’t ---_

No.

With a jump she was out of the service hole, darting towards the exit, Finn hot on her trails and shouting something like _wait,_ and _Rey, please, hear me out_ , grabbing her wrist --- turn --- _slap ---_ he is still holding her and now she is _shaking her arm --- let me go! ---_ no --- _yes, you will!_ \--- _slap again, kick in the stomach, elbow hits on the back ---_ she is free --- sprinting to the door, ---- _come, on you old junk, open, open, ---_ it’s done, it’s open, --- she jumps to the ground and runs like on Jakku, no, she not simply runs like on Jakku, she is running like she used to run from Rii’as breath when she was still out scavenging until the last minute, she is running like running from death --- through the hangar, to the hidden staircase --- the suffocating basement --- the door is locked with a code, she forgot to pick it from Finn’s mind, so she takes her blaster and fires right into it, the door opens and she darts towards the cell --- almost there ---

\---- shrill rips through her skull so hard that she collapses on her knees, pressing her hands to her ear to muffle the sound but it doesn’t go away --- _fine, then I’ll just to it this way, whatever ---_ because she is Rey from Jakku and what’s a little screeching ripping through her brain compared to the pain of her heart --- she stands and humps to the cell door like the sound was injuring her on her legs --- _this is the one._

And for a second, before she opens that door, time seems to freeze and for a second she doesn’t even hear the shriek, because he is in there and yet she still can’t feel him and she still doesn’t understand how that’s possible, _but it doesn’t matter, there is time to think later, right now there is a task to complete_ , and she aims her blaster on the thick lock and fires.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. The Eighth Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? This will be intense emotionally. ;) 
> 
> Also note that I have used a quotation from the Bible as an _artistic reference_ (yeah, I've been to the Vatican recently and apparently I had an overdose of that, burn me! :D) If it is of a concern for you, just skip it/ignore it I guess? :)

 

_And when he opened the seventh seal, there followed a silence in heaven about the space of half an hour. And I saw the seven angels that stand before God; and there were given unto them seven trumpets._

_And another angel came and stood over the altar, having a golden censer; […] And the angel taketh the censer; and he filled it with the fire of the altar, and cast it upon the earth: and there followed thunders, and voices, and lightnings, and an earthquake._

_Revelations 8:2-3,5_

* * *

He jolts as he hears the blaster sound.

_Is it time already?_ It seemed to him that they had just left and usually they didn’t come back until he was going over his conversation with his mother on the night before he was shipped off to the Jedi academy the third time --- and right now he was still at the memories of his five-year-old-self overhearing his parents whispering, his mother’s stifled voice _I am so afraid, Han,_ and his father’s deep, velvet words _he just has to learn to control it, Luke could help_ , so there should be more time --- but the door swings open wide and there is a different silhouette --- _Rey_ , he would recognize that frame among a million.

_The end must be near_ , he thinks then, because ever since he was thrown into this cell he hasn’t had any visions of her, like they were cut off with the Force, but he kept wishing he could see her --- and after all, it was _nice_ to have that yearning granted, even if only in a hallucination, just one last time.

He tries to force his eyes that have gone almost blind during this month he has spent in the darkness, but it’s so painful, he closes them --- _that’s alright, I had a glimpse_.

Rey, on the other hand, as the _smell_ and the _sight_ hit her crouches and unceremoniously _vomits_ right there in the doorway --- what’s a little more bodily fluid added to this marsh already there --- then again, and as she cannot anymore, she scraps herself up from the floor and staggers her way to Kylo Ren.

He is a little startled to envision her to throw up but right, Dameron and the Traitor didn’t particularly care for hygiene, leaving him at the mercy of bacteria, so, that would explain it, but what he cannot understand _at all_ is when she stands up and makes her way to him, half bent, half standing, sobbing and ---- _howling_? --- then her hand reaches out tentatively, trembling in the air, the other clutched on her mouth ---

“Maker… oh, Force… Maker… Ben…” She’s barely holding it together. He is much thinner than she remembered, his cheeks are hollow, there are scars and bruises covering his whole body, his clothes reduced to rags, his wrists bound behind his back. There is an old blaster wound on his shoulder that looks infected, and she wills her shaking hand to still and touch him gently --- his skin is burning and he is covered in cold sweat, his eyes are --- dull. That’s hurting the most. She loved those eyes, burning with an all-consuming flame and now they are just --- dreamy at best, and she sees that he doesn’t realize that she is _really here_ as his eyes roam on her with a bitter-sweet gentleness. The shrilling is unbearable, and she instinctively twitches her head as to shuffle it away.

His little scavenger, she must really be in his head, he knows this reaction, it’s been like this for two weeks with him, that’s why this vision of her also mirrors his actions. He knows it’s futile to talk to a hallucination, but it’s been so lonely for so long, he starts to speak anyway.

“That’s alright, sweetheart,” he says gently with slurred articulation, unlike his meticulously formed words she remembers, “it comes from the ysalamir. It won’t go away, but I am used to it now. Sorry that I project it on you.”

_Sweetheart._ She shouldn’t have heard this, he thinks he is daydreaming, but it still fills her with a much-needed courage. What did he say after that? Ysalamir?

“What is a ysal… whatever.” Her words fall patiently from her lips, though she is nothing but patient as she becomes painfully aware of the fleeting time, she needs to move quickly before they close that door on her.

“The lizard. I hear it’s hissing. Maybe there are more, I don’t know. It blocks the Force.”

She listens for a moment, trying to shut out the constant shrilling. Yes, there are hisses. Looking around, she discovers that outside of the door there is a case hanging high above the entrance. She completely missed that when she entered.

Standing up, she makes her way out and shoots the animal with an unmoved face. _Die, bastard._ The sound is still on and now she is turning furious, on a hunt and as she peeks into the room she shots the second one too, but she still hears the sound. In the other neighboring cell, the third ysalamir finds his death at her blaster a few seconds later.

The Force hits into her like the waves of Anch-To the same moment. There is nothing else she can compare the power to washing over her at that moment in hindsight, and she struggles to draw breath like she struggled there when she jumped into that infinite ocean, completely at its mercy --- but this time, the currents are amplified with the raging blaze of her soul; the anger, the disappointment, the disgust, the betrayal by everything and everyone she believed in, thirst for _revenge_ and a strong, burning fire --- and maybe it is not an ocean wave, maybe it is a whirlwind that sucks in a volcano’s lava or a wildfire and turns into living judgement _ripping_ through everything. She hears voices susurrating in a langue she shouldn’t understand but yet she does. 

_Vexok savaka, Kira._

He feels it too, the familiar current raining down on him like a monsoon on the desert and suddenly the pain is bearable, suddenly he can channel it again, but his body is weak, weaker than he is used to. He can’t remember how and who opened that door, what happened to the ysalamir. Still not fully out of his haze --- how could he, after starving for so long --- he tries to stir when he sees Rey enter his cell. Was she here all along?

Her eyes glow in gold-yellow, and her Force signature is living, breathing _thing_ around her.

_Nwûl tash. Dzwol shâsotkun._

He can’t remember if he has seen anything this beautiful and terrifying, but he is certain he couldn’t picture her this glorious because all imagination falls short of that sight that’s unfolding before his eyes – Rey, as the dark, guardian angel, descended from the heavens – or risen from the underworld, he can’t decide, stepping to him, breaking his shackles with the Force.

“ _Eyah seh maat, shu kor huaan,“_ she croons in his ear the soothing words and it is even more sensual falling from her lips because he knows she is in a trance, in a _Sith_ trance. He smirks, he always knew she had it in her. _She will be unstoppable,_ he thinks with pride, though he is aware that there is little has he added to this.

Rey feels a power that was unknown to her and to hell with it, she is going to drag Kylo Ren out of this cell, out of this misery all by herself.

_Shâsotjontû châtsatul nu tyûk._

He is _huge,_ even if thinner, he still weighs two-three times her body mass but it doesn’t matter, nothing matters, only to get him to somewhere else, somewhere far from here – preferably before she throws up again.

Judging from the wounds, he hasn’t moved on his own for at least a month, there is no point in trying at all so she kneels with her back to him.

“Throw your arms around my neck,” she instructs him and he gets to it, though moving hurts like fire and he _screams_ as he forces his shoulders into an opposite position to what they have been for weeks now. His breath is ragged, but he can do this if she can. While Kylo fights his pain and inch by inch snakes his arms on her, there is something that catches her eyes close to the ground. Nineteen little stripes, uneven and discarded, but with a clear pattern. _He has been counting the days, just like me,_ but there is no time to drown in the sorrow --- the echo of her own and the reality of his --- because he is done with the task.

“Clast your hands,” she continues and when she is certain that he is safely on her back, she grabs his arms, pulling them forward as she lifts herself from the ground, one leg after the other, channeling the Force.

_Wonoksh Qyâsik nun._

She is dragging him out of the room, his legs lifelessly hanging and he is draped over her like a living mantle. She feels his hair tickle her ear as he is trying to shield his eyes from the light in the crook of her neck and soon he drifts off because it feels so nice on her warm back, almost like lying on a beach when he was a child, _eyah seh maat, shu kor huaan._

They haven’t come yet to stop her, but who would dare to try it, she would love to see. With slow and steady steps she carries them to the end of the corridor, up the stairs, through the one aisle of the hangar --- and now there are some people staring --- but still she is not where she wants to be so she ignores them and drags his lump body, now unconscious to the main hangar where the ships are.

Ben’s wounds are beyond the healing capability of the Resistance, she needs a bacta tank and she needs it very soon. She already made up her mind while yanking Kylo all this way to take a ship and find the nearest First Order base with one. She is running through the catalog of their navy to find the most suitable one when Leia, Finn, and Poe spot her halfway, no doubt hurrying in the direction of his cell. They freeze and stare at her, breaths hitching. This snaps her out of her thoughts. She stops, too, her attention zeroed down on Leia impassively like the last judgment. _Face this, General._

Leia catches the shoulder of Finn for leverage because the blood runs out of her head when the sight hits her: Rey, hauling her son – or son’s body. How could this happen under her watch? How could her own men do this to her _son?_ Yes, he was irredeemable, yes, she told them to make him talk, but she was very positive that she also told them _to be able to walk_ and right there he _wasn’t_ walking, he was _dragged_ by a girl much smaller than him. There is no time right now to make a scene, there is no time to reprimand her soldiers for disobeying, there is no time to cry and throw herself on her son’s body and beg for forgiveness because _dread_ blinds out every other feeling whirling in her _._

“You two shut up. That is an order!” she hisses as quietly and intimidatingly she can to Poe and Finn. Slowly, she starts to walk again and the two men take on her clue. Rey doesn’t move as they begin to approach again. _Do they come to stop her? Are they so foolish to try?_

The air grows thinner and colder as the distance closes, Leia finds and by the time they are only a few steps away from Rey, she has to grit her teeth to prevent them from clacking. Her mind is white-blank from the stress and she is operating out of routine entirely, preparing the soothing speech and the order to take her son to the med-bay. But when she looks into Rey’s eyes… or eyes she _anticipated_ to be Rey’s --- because instead of the familiar warm hazel ones gold-yellow reptile irises are staring at her with the intensity of an X-ray. _She is in a Sith trance._

Then and there Leia knows she not only has lost her son. She has lost a daughter too. The beacon, the symbol of hope for the Resistance and by that – she knows – she has lost the war. It is only a matter of time before it really happens.

Still, she rights herself and cuts off her straying thoughts. She has chosen her path, it is too late for her, too, she reminds herself. Her path was the Resistance. She has to keep this situation under control before Rey kills everyone in this hangar with pure Force. There will be time to mourn later, just like she learned there was always --- when her planet blew into molecules, after each battle, when Han died, when Luke died. Her son would be no exception.

“You!” Rey hisses even colder than Hothian air, “How could you allow this? How could you let them do this to your _son?!”_ Her voice still reminds of Rey’s but it is more a shriek than anything as desperation, chagrin, and disgust wrestle to dominate it. “You could have been his _mother_ at least this once in his life! Or the very least, a decent _general_. Is this how the Resistance treats prisoners? Is this how the Resistance wants to be better than the First Order? Is this how _you_ want to be better than Kylo Ren, who is now _half-dead_ on – my – back?” By the end, she yells at the top of her lungs.

An entire lifetime. That’s how much gets discredited as Rey’s words confront her with the unbearable reality of her actions. Her eyes tear up, but she lets the storm blaze, _come down on me, punish me, I deserve this._ She half expects ---- _hopes!_ \--- Rey to choke her on the spot. She always has been a savage fighter when she was filled with pure Light and now that she is in a Sith trance, she imagines her to be even more ruthless. Yet Rey does no such thing --- death on the point would be more a forgiveness than punishment --- but Leia feels that all three of them start to suffocate like the air would be sucked out from the hangar. It is wiser to lay down when the archangel delivers her judgment.

“His lightsaber. Now,” she addresses Finn and he carefully fishes it out of the hiding of his jacket, still on him since the last time he used it on Kylo. With slow motions, he hands it to her, wound up like a spring, ready to bolt any second.

“You,” she snarls as their eyes meet, “you were my _best_ friend. You should have known better. But instead, you betrayed me.” She pauses and then lets her piercing gaze wash over the three of them. “You _all_ have betrayed _both_ of us,” she drops her voice to a low of a whisper and lets her conclusion hang in the air.

They are all paralyzed by the weight of the truth. It is futile trying to explain. It is unwise to resist. It is deadly to wince.

Time is a void until Rey decides to move. Kylo’s fading Force signature urges her to act, there is no time to waste and especially no time to waste on lecturing those who are of no use to her anymore. She starts to walk again, dragging both the weight of that huge body and her soul and she – even in her trance – finds it incomprehensible where her strength to do that comes from.

Her attention zeroes down on deciding about the ship --- _fast one with medical supplies, able to hold two people ---_ and she doesn’t notice that soldiers have lined up below the ships with weapons aimed at her, just like she doesn’t see that Leia orders them to stand down with a flick of her wrist and nobody dares to disobey her. _The Falcon is too well-known_ , she contemplates further, _and besides, I left the reparations unfinished_. She decides for the newly acquired _RZ-1 A-wing interceptor_.

The door opens and the few, last steps carry her and Kylo into the ship. She closes the door. As the tension eases, she realizes that she still has no coordinates, nevertheless she is prepared to launch themselves into realspace aimlessly not wanting to spend another _second_ near the Resistance, but as she lowers Kylo to the ground, his consciousness brushes against hers.

He still feels her in a trance as he comes to himself. _It’s been too long,_ he thinks, _she needs to come back._ His brows furrow, he knows he has to help her. She is completely inexperienced with the Dark Side, it is a wonder that the trance hasn’t ripped apart her mind by now. But she _is_ the textbook definition of wonder, a prodigy, why does it surprise him at all. _I have to bring her back._

Rey cocks her head, attentively searching his face when he pries his dried-together mouth open.

_“Tapti' atgal kia nun.”_

The words come out more of an exhale than an actual speech, but Rey still feels a peremptory pull in the Force. She sharply inhales like emerging from underwater. The susurrating stops, her head clears and her eyes fade back to her warm hazel color. Kylo stirs, his hand gently brushing against hers. _Welcome back._

“Let me read your thoughts, Ben,” she gingerly whispers as soon as she snaps back, not quite understanding what has happened. She has to have the information as long as he is able to think.  His head moves a few inches and she takes it for a nod, probing into his mind. She sinks in but it is a sandstorm threatening to pull her under.

“I need the list of the bases with a bacta tank loyal to you in the Outer Rim.” If there was anything she has learned about him in the past year, it was that he has a memory rival to a computer. Even if he was drifting in and out of consciousness for days now, the knowledge was still there.

Ben centers his thoughts, her voice guiding him like a master’s. She picks the suitable information effortlessly. “Tell me you access codes.”

There is a little hesitation this time.

“Please. It’s the only way.”

He knows she is right. The First Order base would shoot them down without this convincing authentication and even in possession of that there is a chance that they won’t trust them. But it’s all the hope they have. With the last drop of his strength, he shoves the data into Rey’s mind and closes off the connection not to drag her with him before he blacks out again.

“Thank you,” she whispers, quickly securing him before she runs into the cockpit to start the take-off protocol.

The ship hovers in the hangar for a few seconds and Rey takes a good last look at what she is leaving behind – again. Again a life that she has built with hard work, a previously unknown world she made tick for her liking and one that she yet again has to abandon completely and forever because of Ben Solo. She prays that it would stop someday. She prays for a second that this is the last time she has to give up her life – because this one she is about to enter has no substitute.

She guides the ship out of the hangar, out of the base, into realspace and soon the lines of hyperspace lit up her face with a steely blue.

_The belonging you seek is ahead of you._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your kudos and comments that you have left so far, I really appreciate them! I would be honoured to continue receiving them. :) If you like my work, please recommend it to someone who might like it too! 
> 
>  
> 
> **References**
> 
> Vexok savaka. —"Wake up, there is work to do."
> 
> Nwûl tash. Dzwol shâsotkun. - Peace is a lie. There is only passion. (Sith Code)
> 
> Shâsotjontû châtsatul nu tyûk. - Through passion, I gain strength. (Sith Code)
> 
> Wonoksh Qyâsik nun. - The Force shall free me. (Sith Code)
> 
> Eyah seh maat, shu kor huaan. — Unknown. Something soothing.
> 
> Tapti\' atgal kia nun - Come back to me. (For this I used the [Sith translator](http://funtranslations.com/sith)  
> . I deliberately did not insert the \ sign in the text because it would have looked very odd, I apologize it that renders the sentence incorrect in Sith. :) )


	4. In the Void

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Void of power or space. Both suffocating.

 

“The agents are in place, Supreme Leader,” the lieutenant’s said, bringing Hux back to reality.  Technically, he wasn’t Supreme Leader _yet,_ but he instructed his most immediate subordinates to address him as such. Soon, they would have to get used to it anyway.

“Good. Start the countdown.”

“Yes, Sir.” She switched to the respective frequencies. “All agents: countdown to operation starts now. Sixty seconds. Standby.”

Hux tensely stared at the screen, squaring his shoulders. _The moment is finally here_. One month of preparation was bearing its fruits. This short time was enough for him to discover that Ren’s unpolished leadership left a quietly crumbling organization behind. Instead of being annoyed, he _reveled_ in gloating. This was the excellent opportunity to cement his power within the First Order.

_Thirty-five seconds._

However, he met unexpected hostility. The generals found Ren’s reign suspiciously short-lived. They could believe that the mysterious Jedi girl had killed Snoke. But _voluntarily_ descending into a battle where there was a realistic chance of death seemed to be too big of a risk to take even for the impulsive Kylo Ren. They simply couldn't wrap their heads around it

Hux was forced to stage search missions in the most abandoned places of the galaxy to prove that he was acting in the interest of the First Order, trying to save their Supreme Leader. Part of this had been the chase after the Black Squadron through impossible hyperspace jumps and asteroid fields until the TIEs lost track of the Resistance for real. Hux had only a vague idea that they might be hiding somewhere in the Outer Rim, but he really couldn’t care less. He was so close to becoming the epicenter of power

_Twenty seconds._

The skepticism had been annoying. He thought that everyone despised Ren. But as it turned out, the further soldiers were stationed from him, the less they inherited a natural aversion towards him. Not a subject to his tantrums, they valued the strategic style of leadership he adopted. In their eyes, Ren was _economical_ with manpower and honestly, they didn’t mind the pressure of death easing up on them especially in regions where confrontation was most likely.

Hux gritted his teeth angrily while he revisited the exhausting and, frankly, sometimes humiliating moments of the past weeks.

If he would have had personnel to waste, he would have murdered every officer down to the lowest ranks with any _ounce_ of sympathy for Ren. As he did not, he decided to be persuasive for the time being. And he could be _very_ persuasive.

_Five seconds._

Hux did not intend to be soft like Ren _._ Neither in, nor outside of the First Order.

“Engage!” he gives the order and smirks.

In every corner of the Inner Rim, on every station, the secret squads close in upon the unsuspecting commanders. The less important and potent Outer Rim stations will have to get the cue by example for the time being. Hux watches his troops advance on the screens, and on the holomaps, a cruel, calculating smile shimmering on his lips.

Soon, there would be no one, _no one_ loyal to Ren in position. _Yield, or die_.

Doors are blown up, bridges blocked, and security codes are overridden.

He holds back a grin threatening to give away his exhilaration as he looks at startled commanders, their hands up in surrender on the screens in front of him. He clenches his left wrist with his right hand, not letting his usual position change as he sees his squads encircle the helpless men, ready to fire at his command.

All set.

“Patch me through,” he orders.

“Yes, Supreme Leader.”

There is a moment of quiet and Hux straightens himself. On every First Order base, his hologram alongside with the life feed of the encircled Inner Rim stations lights up.

“Yield, or die,” he opens his speech.

His voice rings exactly as he rehearsed it so many times in his chambers. Satisfied with the chilling results, he lets his words echo in their ears.

“Yield, or die, Generals. The choice is yours. Acknowledge me and you will rise, deny me and you will fall on the spot.” He pauses dramatically.

In the short silence, he becomes painfully aware of his furious heartbeats and whirring blood in his ears.

He wills himself to continue as rehearsed.

“I have worked my entire life for making the First Order shine in its full glory and I will make it blossom as the Supreme Leader. Join me on the way to glory--” his glittering, hopeful tone dropping to a threatening cold “ --- or _perish_ trying to stand in my way.”

Some of Generals make a tentative attempt to argue and they are shot down as promised. He purses his lips in irritation.

_Bloody fools! Ren allowed them to forget them how to bend, how to serve but I--- I will remind them of that. I will finish what the First Order started._

His jaw clenched as he feels his patience wear thin.

“Yield, or die,” he _commands_ now. The third time does the charm. The remainder of the commanders throw their weapons to the ground.

He huffs. _They break far too easily._

“I see you came to your senses, at last. Now acknowledge me.”

_Long live the Supreme Leader,_ it echoes through the channels.

Hux suppresses a triumphant smile and stiffly nods instead.

“Generals, commanders,” he addresses them using an amicable tone, as if taking afternoon tea, “until further notice, you are asked to remain under the supervision of my personal troops. Your security clearance has been revoked and will only be reinstated once you have paid me a visit. I suggest you follow the instructions of the squadrons. An order for shooting down anyone who should resist is still in force. A meeting point will be arranged in Coruscant. Squadrons, operations resume as agreed. Transmission over.”

He looks around to find dead silence in the room.

Shouldn’t they be cheering? He just rewrote history! But then again, they are probably too afraid to even wince. _Good._ He likes obedience. He likes dedication.

There was only one order left to be drilled into the head of every member of the First Order.

“Set a general capture and report order for Kylo Ren and revoke his access codes effect of immediately. I want to know if he ever shows up and I want him alive.” _He_ _may die_ _at my hands_ only _._

“Yes, Sir, transmitting now.”

“Good. Now prepare for a jump to Coruscant. Inform me when we are in realspace. I will be in my chambers.”

Without waiting for affirmation, he turns on his heels to leave the bridge.

As he walks down the corridor, he feels the high of the moment subside somewhat to give way to a convenient haze; The lullaby of safety, the sweet taste of power.

_Oh_ , this will be so good, he smirks. Tomorrow he will take over the _Annihilation_. Tomorrow, he will crown himself.

*

Rey brushed her hand over Kylo’s forehead for the umpteenth time. His temperature had subsided somewhat, but it was a fever nonetheless. 

Her body was tense as she knelt beside him, still angry at herself for having miscalculated the duration of the jump. When she discovered that she would be stuck with a half-unconscious Ben Solo for two days instead of a few hours, she almost lost it. Would she have taken him so abruptly had she known this? Running against time was a risky business, especially that his life was at stake, but one day was already over. He only had to make through one more.

As soon as they reached hyperspace, she started to deal with the worst of his wounds: putting bacta stitches on the most urgent ones, getting medication into his mouth and coaxing him into swallowing. He had drifted in and out of feverish dreams as far as she could tell based on his pulsating Force signature. _What was he dreaming about?_ Curiosity was eating away at her. Yet, she felt that it would be a suicide for both of them to try reading him: His mind was still uncontrolled and she felt like she could get trapped in his head.  

Instead, she settled for soothing him in the worst visions, when his teeth clacked and his spent body jerked wildly, his arms stiffening and fists clenched. His face distorted like he was trying to fight back intense pain.  She was terrified when she first saw such dreams, and had tried to shake him awake. After the third time she realized that it would pass, so she held his head in her hands to prevent him bashing it to the floor as she waited for him to ride out the riptides.

He had been calm now for some hours. His breath was ragged and too shallow for her liking. Patting him down she discovered a broken rib. _This would have to wait until the bacta tank._

She sighed.

There wasn’t much she could do more with her limited resources. _Too bad._ She much preferred busying herself with nursing Ben to a somewhat stable condition over reflecting on yesterday’s events.

_Something inside me has always been there...but now it's awake, and I'm afraid. I don't know what it is, or what to do with it, but I need help._

She smiled bitterly at how painfully correct those words ended up being - just not the way she thought they would be.

There is indeed _something_ inside of her.

A beast with red glowing eyes is in her soul. It stares at her from the abyss of her fears and insecurities paralyzing her with fear - not knowing how to tame it, terrified of what it might do to her if agitated. For now, it just purred in the shadows glaring at her, unspoken promise of… of something dark hovering above her that she felt utterly unprepared for.

Rey could not kid herself anymore. In the basement, her soul rode on the crest of the dark waves and they crashed her violently onto a new shore like a sigh of relief. That's when the beast must have made its nest in her, undetected in the turmoil.

She vaguely remembered Kylo muttering something that lifted the murderous haze from her mind. Apparently, he _knew_ he had to help her to come back and _how_ to do it. He cared for her _again_ , he protected her _again_ from something she couldn’t even name yet.

She wasn’t strong enough for this on her own. Not with the Dark Side claiming her.

A cold chill runs down her spine.

She has no idea how the Light side works, let alone the Dark. She needs his help.

She sighed, this time in reluctant acceptance.

Then there is something entirely different too. Some other thing that has been there and has been awakened as well.

_Sweetheart._

She shifts her weight to her other leg. _Have I contracted something from Ben_ , she wonders as heat creeps up her face.

There was a soft side to Kylo Ren, she knew that by now. He cared for her in his own twisted way. He saved her after all -- maybe for his own benefit she didn’t know. But the fact was that she lived though she shouldn’t have. Still, sweetheart was an entirely other dimension of caring, one she didn’t know about and couldn’t really imagine.

Her legs feel numb and she pulls them from underneath her to her chest, resting her chin on her knees while her hand absentmindedly traces her scar on his face over and over again.

In her entire twenty standard years she never had a conscious relationship where such a gentleness was expressed. Her only companions throughout the harsh childhood and teenage years were a doll and a helmet from a long-dead resistance pilot, and some desert plants she nurtured in her makeshift AT-AT home. She could not afford herself to get emotionally attached to anything else than the memory of her parents. Yet she gave a short prayer to Riia for every soul of the desert animals she killed to eat and felt a sense of protectiveness came surprisingly easy when BB-8 rolled into her life.

She shifts again her position, crossing one leg over the other.

Robots, she knew. Robots, she could do. They were parts wired together, something she had an intimate relationship with. Humans were so much more complicated. She wished she could just open up Ben Solo and change his broken parts, change his broken rib and mend his scorched soul just like she could do with machines. But he was a war machine only in his appearance. Inside, he was just a human, after all.

She chews on her lip, swallowing the delicate skin she parts from there and shifts her weight. The ground has never been so uncomfortable before. Her fingers brush his hair out of his sweat-stricken face.

_Sweetheart._

Without any real experience, she had to rely on hard facts. She knew sweetheart is something muttered between people who have a deep affection for each other. Sweetheart should not have been a word falling from the lips in a daydream of a man who was the – now-former – warlord of her enemy. But yet it had been said.

So now, she has to bear the stare of this beast too – the beast of a possibility that she is not alone with her dreams either. Was this what he meant?

_You are not alone._

“Neither are you,” she whispers, tracing his face gently with her fingers, then grabbing a towel wipes away his cold sweat. She notices how instinctively he chases after her touch and it does things to her stomach that should not be allowed between two people on the opposite sides.

Only, they _are_ no longer on the opposite sides.

Everything changed so quickly and she had no idea how to proceed other than save him -- because he did not deserve this, no matter his deeds. He was betrayed by his own family, just like she was. Had the Light not found her first, she could have been in his place just as easily.

Lifting herself from the ground, she walks to the cockpit, careful not to stare into the kaleidoscope of blue lights for too long. It is too inviting, too soothing. She resist, knowing that a hyper-rapture is the last thing she needs right now. Checking the control panel, she discovers that she has less than 24 hours to go to her destination, which eases her mood a little. Soon he will be back on friendly territory in a bacta tank, safe and somewhat sound.

“Hold on, Ben, I’m going to save you,” she murmurs. Then with a sudden idea, she experimentally adds _sweetheart_ in her thoughts. It is alien but it does not feel as strange as it should. She shrugs her shoulders.

There will be enough time to figure out that side of her feelings later on when death is not a hair's breadth away from him.

She sets an alarm clock, tilts back her chair, and drifts off to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long for this update and sorry that it's so much shorter than usual but long is not necessarily better. :D RL and writer's block plagued me and I was saved by the wonderful [Knight of Cookies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Knight_of_Cookies)  
> who was so kind and edited the hell out of this chapter. I owe you this one, thank you so much for working on this chapter! <3 
> 
> As always, your reviews are highly appreciated! Come talk to me if you'd like on my Tumblr: reylotrashpiler. 
> 
> **References:**   
> [Hyper-rapture](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Hyper-rapture)  
> 


	5. Lion's den

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there people!
> 
> It's been quite some time, eh? *blush* Life has been crazy around here for me, getting my degree and stuff. 
> 
> I also have been sidetracked, working on a modern law firm au (as I am a lawyer, how could I resist writing Reylo about my work, right??) check it our new fic with Trueffle123 [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15302586/chapters/35501796).
> 
> I also had to make a minor adjustment regarding Rey's ship, I had to change the type because the first one was not what I ultimately wanted, but that's just a minor issue, please do disregard. :) 
> 
> And without further ado, please, welcome this chapter, beta'd by none other than the insanely talented [voicedimplosives](https://archiveofourown.org/users/voicedimplosives/pseuds/voicedimplosives/works). Tamara, you are a godsend, I cannot thank you enough!

_Yield or die,_ booms the holo footage, that shrill voice of Hux's that he never could stand, not even in their early years at the First Order academy. His teeth crack slightly under the pressure of his jaw as he braces himself for the next few frames: his brother opens his mouth to ask what this should mean, then the smooth _pwie_ of a blaster and his brother falls lifelessly to the ground, face first. Hux speaks afterwards but no matter how many times he has watched the footage within the last forty-eight hours he never could pay attention to his orders. He just kept staring at his brother’s dead body.

The loss cracked something within him. It was always only him and the First Order, ever since they were recruited out of poverty from that dirtball. Now that he was gone a tingling sensation crept up on him: _did he believe in the First Order at all? Or was this the life he chose for lack of a better alternative?_

In his hand a glass of Corellian whiskey undulates calmly as he swirls it. A silent toast is all his brother will get. Not even a proper funeral.

His comm goes off and snaps him out of his mourning.

“Sir, we have detected an incoming ship. It is cloaked but judging from its size, it cannot be a First Order ship.”

Diarmuid tightens his grip  on his glass, containing the last gulp of the whiskey, and wonders if he should crush it or drink its contents.

“Sir, what should we do?”

He downs it resolutely before answering.

“Ask for identification and instruct them to uncloak. I will be there in a second.”

“Yes, Sir!” the soldier eagerly yells .

 _They still don’t understand their sacrifice_ , he thinks bitterly, before heading for the command central. His comm goes off in the middle of the corridor. Why can’t he handle this alone?

“Sir, the ship has not obeyed our request to uncloak and has dispatched the security codes of Kylo Ren. Waiting for your confirmation to take down the ship and capture the crew, in accordance with   Supreme Leader’s orders.”

Diarmuid clenches his jaw.

“Make them land but don’t harm them,” he commands. “I will be right there.”

There is a moment of hesitation.

“You heard me, soldier.”

“Yes, Sir,” he barks .

Diarmuid jogs to the central but already knows what to do. The First Order might have taken  his brother but the Force is stronger than them. This is his chance to pay back Hux and wipe  that smug grin off  his face.

Not that he would have been found by Kylo Ren, who was obviously  less skilled of a leader than Snoke. Kylo, however, only killed if it was inevitable, if it had a purpose, --- never out of lust. He even heard rumours that Ren had objected to the tasteless destruction of Hosnian Prime.

Not Hux though. Starkiller had always been  his pet project. The ginger man was unpredictable in a completely different way than Ren. The Darksider was a slave of his emotions, Hux was a slave to his inferiority complex. The general also had a thing for theatrics to which  - quite literally - his brother fell victim. Ren was economical. Ren had goals. Mindless killing was not in his repertoire.

 _I’ll have to be very careful,_ he reminds himself _._ Hux has already  demonstrated his style of leadership. _Any hint of treason could cost my life._

Shooting down the ship without inflicting serious damage should do. This complies with the capture order. The pilot appears to be capable,  because flying past their defense system around the planet undetected is a miracle.

He enters the room the moment they manage to crack the cloaking.

“It’s an _YV-560 light freighter_ , Commander, a Resistance ship,” the lieutenant shouts at him excitedly.

“Aim at the wings and bring them down. I want to inspect the ship and hand  Kylo Ren  to the Supreme Leader personally,  if he really is on board.”

“Yes, Sir!” The lieutenant jumps at the command. Diarmuid can’t help but feel bile rise up his throat. This young officer is way too excited for his liking. Why should anyone be so electrified at the possibility of harming another being?

*

Rey successfully dodged the defense system with some general codes she picked from Ben’s mind and the descent has been uneventful - until red missiles flew her way, just past the hood of the freighter .

 _Warning shots,_ she had thought and just a second later the radio went off.

“This is the First Order base speaking. Uncloak your ship and identify yourself immediately. I repeat, uncloak and identify.”

She dispatched Ben’s codes. _This should be enough,_ she smirked triumphantly.

“These access codes have been revoked as of yesterday. Provide another access code or you will be taken down.”

_What? Revoked?_

“Damn,” she curses softly, and ignores the paralyzing chill running down her spine. Panic crawls within her. _I don’t have any other codes! What has happened? Is Ben no longer safe with the First Order? Is this some kind of misunderstanding?_ There is no time to think of an alternative right now.

_I need that kriffing bacta tank!_

The ship quivers at the same time under the shock waves breaking away the veil.

Shooting at them is not the best option, but what can she do? Before she loses her cover completely, she aims in the general direction of the blasters. Misses, of course.

In a heartbeat the first missile hits her right side and the ship immediately dips. She manages to correct it and shoot back, but another hits the same spot and the freighter starts to spin.

“Kriffin’ hell!“ she yells, gritting her teeth while aggressively yanking the control to stabilise the ship. In the back of her mind, she fears that Ben’s condition will be worsened by this turbulence .

 _Emergency landing it is,_ she decides, somehow managing to right the ship and guide it towards the ground. The crash is violent but at least the ship’s belly is parallel to the ground, as it should be. Several trees are razored down as they land at the edge of a forest, not far away from the base.

 _Not exactly the welcome I was hoping for,_ she fumes, but she has been through worse. She is a woman on a mission, and if she has to kill a whole base to get Ben to a bacta tank, she will do it.

She hastily lurches from the cockpit to the inside of the ship. Ben is still unconscious despite the heavy landing which Rey interprets as a dire need for medical attention.

Outside of the ship noises start to emerge: the marching of Stormtroopers and thrumming of vehicles.

 _“E chu ta!”_ she growls, snatching Ben’s lightsaber and her blaster, then tramps to the door.

She opens it.

*

Diarmuid’s jaw almost drops and it takes every ounce of his willpower for him not to give himself away. Of course, he knows who he is facing. _The Jedi girl who killed Snoke._ He spots Kylo Ren’s lightsaber at her side, in her hand a blaster gun. _But where is Kylo Ren? Why is he parted with his lightsaber?_ _Has she killed him?_ The girl’s body language screams irritation, caution but no hostility.

The soldiers aim at her, blasters charged, but her attention is zeroed in on him. _I should give the order to shoot her down_ , he thinks and wonders if his hesitation gives away his plan for treason.

Facing the Stormtroopers, she already feels that beast calling to her, stirring with excitement. The red crystal in the lightsaber seems to be pulsating, begging to be lit to life. Rey taps into the Force, trying to ignore the call of the Dark Side to compel, to kill as she carefully sizes up the situation. Ten Stormtroopers, one commander. _Damn, I can’t control all these minds at once._ Somehow, their leader seems hesitant to take her out, she realizes and hope seeps through her. She might still win this.

“Where did you get those access codes?” Diarmuid asks, at last, to break the stand-off.

“I am a scavenger. I recycle,” she retorts.

He scoffs. _You have nerve, girl._

Her mind reaches out to his. _He is anxious. He is hiding something from his subordinates._ She tries to keep her bubbling excitement at bay. _He might be willing to help,_ something whispers in her. _If I only could get him alone to talk…_

“What do you want, Jedi girl?” Diarmuid shouts, across the distance.

“I could ask you the same. You could have shot me down but you didn’t,” she points out.

“You have precious cargo, if I am not mistaken, one that is highly sought-after and I intend to hand it over unharmed to its rightful owner.”

“If that’s really so, you can inspect that cargo yourself. Alone. Come inside, if you dare, commander. I give you my Jedi word not to harm you.”  She steps aside to emphasize her promise.

Diarmuid hesitates.

This could be a trap.

This could be a trap or this could be his chance to finally talk to the girl alone. Maybe she read his mind? The Jedi can do that, right? He chews on the inside of his cheek as he once again struggles  to decide. He will be killed either way if they find out about his treacherous plans. He might as well die from a lightsaber. He always wanted to see one from up close.

“Alright, Jedi girl. I take your word.” He turns to the Stormtroopers. “Be ready to fire if you sense something suspicious.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He nods, then turns to make his way inside the ship. Rey’s palms are sweating  and she tries to calm herself by taking long, deep breaths. Her eyes lock with those of the man as he approaches and she sees the same dread mirrored in them. He stops for a second when he is level with her, only a step away, and looks into her eyes to examine her.

“After you,” he says.

Rey is not comfortable baring her back to him. However, she does not have the upper hand here. If she wants his cooperation, she has to give up some footing.

“Fine,” she snarls at last, and leads the way to the inside of the ship, her mind ready to freeze the man with the Force at any second.

“Why are my access codes revoked?” she asks, glancing behind her shoulder.

The commander’s face twitches but he remains silent. _This girl is Resistance. Entering her ship without Stormtroopers was risky enough, there will be no chit-chat about First Order power-dynamics._

Seeing that she will not get any answer, Rey scoffs. Only a few more steps and they will reach Ben. She needs to know by then where they stand.

“You know I can take whatever I want,” she tries again, this time with a darker tone. Why this exact sentence falls from her lips, she has no idea. She isn’t lying though. No matter how untrained in mind-reading she is, she could rip apart this man’s psyche.

“So take it,” he shrugs and bumps into Rey’s back as she abruptly stops. She doesn’t turn immediately  but inhales deeply, clenching and unclenching her fists. The temptation is too strong, the beast inside her paces frantically, those red eyes thirsty for satisfaction. _Do it. Read him. Kill him._ She whirls around   and sizes up the man. He doesn’t seem to be scared;  he glares at her daringly.

“Alright then,” she declares. She doesn’t recognize her own voice, that cold, declarative tone she speaks with. Her mind wraps around him, paralyzing his body and her hand comes up, extended, hovering inches above his face as she cuts carefully into his memories of the last two days.

He doesn’t resist. Just the opposite, in fact.

“You want this.” She raises her brows. In a surprised whisper, she adds, “You want revenge.” . _This is too good to be true._

She drops her probe and Force-grip and the man sharply inhales as if in pain. Droplets of sweat form on his forehead. His silence speaks louder than words.

Rey smirks in satisfaction.

“Your soldiers have no idea, do they?”

“He killed my brother,” Diarmuid answers tersely, through gritted teeth. “He killed him in cold blood. Without _any_ reason.” Rey barely hears his hisses, like he is afraid someone could catch him speaking of treason.

“Help me, then.” Rey punches on the handle of the cargo door. In the dark room, Diarmuid can make out a huge body. Acres of white, almost grey skin, plastered together with more bacta patches than there are buildings on Coruscant. The face of the man is turned to the other side, but he doesn’t need to see it to know who is lying there.

Rey hears him take a shaky breath of shock.

“I need to put him into a bacta tank,” Rey explains, although it is obvious.

He nods. _Why is she helping him?_

“Do you have a plan, Jedi girl?”

“I… I thought the First Order would be more welcoming, so - not exactly.” She bites her lip, fighting the urge to tear on her hair and burst out crying on the spot. There is time for that later. Not now. Now is time for action.

“He can’t be seen. General Hux took over,  with a coup, about a month ago.”

Rey nods absentmindedly. She has already  seen this in the man’s mind.

“He issued a capture order on Lord Ren,” Diarmuid continues,  eying her carefully. The girls seems to be smart and determined. They will figure this out.

Rey’s thoughts stumble over themselves as she tries to come up with a plan.

“I… might have an idea.” She pauses for a second, and he looks at her with quirked eyebrows. Her voice rings mechanically even as she lays out her plan in an efficient manner.

“We simulate a fight. You call for help. We isolate at least two, preferably three of your men. The corridors are narrow, they have to come in a single line. I will dispose of one. I’ll use the Force to control the remaining soldiers. Then we put Kylo into the soldier’s uniform,  while we continue pretending to fight. You arrest me and let them take me to the jail cell, provide me with the keys to my shackles. Whereas you, as the great leader, personally carry your soldier to a bacta tank. I’ll wipe the minds of the soldiers. They won’t know they have Kylo Ren, even if they see him.”

Diarmuid takes a few moments to consider.

“You are equally wanted across the organisation, Jedi girl. You killed Supreme Leader Snoke. I will have to report that we have you. Otherwise, my soldiers will ask questions.”

Rey eyes bulge. _She did what?_ Of course, Ben would say that to save his own skin. But does it matter? Technically, she _did_ kill Snoke. Ben killed him because of her. Right now, she lets this slide.

After recovering from the initial shock, she blurts out the first thing that comes to her mind.

“So report you have a Resistance pilot who claimed to defect! You came in friendly terms, but the pilot attacked you. You put her in prison and tortured her for information… but she was just a very low ranking pilot. No use. You killed her. You _personally_ disposed of her.” Her chest is heaving rapidly.

“I’m not going to kill you…” Diarmuid interjects.

“Of course not. But we'll fake it. And then… then I get Kylo somewhere safe.”

“You need to find his Knights,” he says slowly. “But enough. We are running out of time. We will have time to figure this out while I “torture” you.”

Rey nods. Tears prickle in her eyes. She feels so overwhelmed by all this, by her misfortune followed by her unspeakable luck in finding this ally in her mission.

“What’s your name?” she asks.

“Diarmuid.”

“I’m so sorry, Diarmuid,” she whispers with apologetic eyes , before she shoves him with all her might against the wall, out into the corridor.

The officer yelps in surprise.

“I thought we were going to _simulate_ a fight!” he yells, as Rey kicks him in the shoulder.

“Nobody’s going to believe this, unless we beat up each other for real!” she retorts,  fist bending the metal right next to his head.

“Alright, Jedi girl!” Diarmuid murmurs He swings his right fist, using his heavy build to his advantage.

“Rey, my name is Rey,” she presses out, as he shoves her against the wall for good measure.

“Nice to meet you, Rey,” he pants back, breathless from the exertion  of the fight. When Rey’s fist connects with his jaw, splitting his lip, she stops.

“Time for backup,” she remarks .

Diarmuid nods in understanding, wiping the blood

 

The next second, he yells on the top of his lungs.

They hear the ‘troopers stir outside of the ship.

Locking eyes, they nod in unison, resuming their fight as soon as they hear the soldiers’ boots clacking on the metal of the floor. Diarmuid yells again, and Rey pulls him with her deeper into the ship. True to her word, the troopers file in,single line, and she takes out a few of them with her blaster. Diarmuid  wrestles with her just  enough to still let her aim.

They retreat further, in the direction of the compartment where Kylo is hidden. Rey lets the defense squad circle them just a little before she punches open the door and fakes fumbling with the lock, until three snowmen enter. Reaching out with the Force, she abruptly closes them off.

The stormtroopers try to encircle her with drawn guns, but she backs to the wall, wrapping an arm around Diarmuid’s neck. He is somewhat taller than her, and the hold chokes him a little. His wiggles are realistic and she makes him stop by pointing her blaster to his head.

“Drop your weapons, soldiers,” she snarls, “or I’ll kill him.”

They hesitate.

“I said, drop -- your -- weapons,” Rey snarls again, nudging her hostage .

“Do as she says!” affirms Diarmuid, voice gravelly from the pressure on his throat.

Finally, they obey.

In that instant, Rey reaches out with the Force and freezes them.

“Go make some noise,” she murmurs into the First Order officer’s ear, letting him go.

He nods, and proceeds to bang on the metal walls, grunting and yelping here and there.

Meanwhile, Rey takes off the masks one by one. Her heart clenches, as she looks at the faces of the three men standing in front of her. One of them has to die and she instantly knows that the one with the white skin has to go.

There are tears streaming down her face. She does not want to do this. How can she decide who lives or who dies? Is his life less worth than that of Kylo? _Yes,_ the red-eyed creature lulls, _yes, he is, to you, he is no one._ _Just a soldier. Just a First Order puppet. Disposable._

She should argue that it’s not true. That Finn used to be just like this man,  his ill faith resembling Ben Solo's. Just a faceless human droid. Instead, she finds that this thought appeals to her. Almost like speaking her secret wish. Her blood  freezes within her veins.

_When did I become this person? When did I stop caring about everyone?_

“Rey. Do it!” Diarmuid urges, breaking her stupor, while still banging on the wall.

She nods and steps back to take aim. There will be plenty of time to think later.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, pulling the trigger, and the next second, the man collapses on his knees then falls face first to the ground, with a neat circle in his head. She fires two blasters into his torso and one in the leg. These injuries will justify the bacta tank.

Diarmuid and her then strip the trooper of his uniform and as gently as they can, put it on Kylo’s limp body. He barely stirs, still burning up from the inside, covered in sweat.

“I hope your plan works, Jedi girl,” the older man says while they slip the helmet on his head.

“Yeah, me too,” she answers and cringes inwardly. This plan… it's risky, to say the least. They hide the Stormtrooper’s body behind some equipment.

“Ready for the showdown?” Rey asks, locking eyes with Diarmuid.

“Yes,” he nods and nervously exhales.

Rey steps to the still paralyzed Stormtroopers.

“You have seen your superior and me fighting. You did not want to fire in this small space for the fear of killing your commander. The Jedi girl has wounded one of your comrades. You do not remember the fight exactly, it was very dark. You will now escort the Jedi girl to one of the most secure confinements and take off her shackles. Report for duty with the base commander. Do not repeat this, just nod if you understood the instructions.”

They obey.

Rey then stands with her back to them and they bind her hands behind her back. Her body is rigid, her face unreadable. She locks eyes with Diarmuid.

“Hit my jaw and my stomach, hard,” she says. He nods and the next thing Rey knows, her head whips to the left, then she feels the telltale nausea as his fist connects with her abdomen. She grunts and spits out blood that has pooled in her mouth.

“I hope he is worth all this,” Diarmuid murmurs and Rey can feel how heavy his heart is.

“We’ll see,” she answers noncommittally, because, yeah, is he worth all this?

 _He didn't ask himself whether I, a scavenger, was worth it when he risked his life to save mine,_ she realises and honestly, she is not asking herself this question either, but rather acting upon instinct.

The door of the compartment hisses open, revealing a bunch of other soldiers crammed into the corridor of the ship. Their blasters are raised, ready to fire.

“Quick, you! Help me carry your comrade to a bacta tank!” Diarmuid orders the first one in the line and the soldiers complies with the command.

“Carry her to cell B-65. I’ll be visiting her later on.”

The two brainwashed Stormtroopers yank her away and Rey puts up a show of fighting their grip. As she passes the base commander, they lock eyes for the last time for many hours to come.

_Please, take care of him. Please, do not screw me over._

She reminds herself over and over again that this man is gambling with his life too now, that he has agreed to go along with her plan. Ben would die either way, without help. It’s been almost three days with nothing but weak bacta patches and some painkiller medication. He is severely dehydrated and malnourished. He needs to float for some days, maybe even a week.

The Stormtroopers pull her through the corridors of the ship, outside, where they cover her eyes with a rough and dust-smelling denym fabric. She feels that she is put on some kind of vehicle and transported back to the base. The darkness makes her nauseated stomach stir up again and she forces herself not to throw up. Instead, she focuses on Ben’s faint Force signature. As long as it's there, she can find solace.

Still, the question lingers on her mind. _Is he worth it?_

More as to comply with the image of an unwilling prisoner than as a real attempt, she fights against her restraints.

What the hell is she even doing? Deep within enemy territory, hands bound behind her back, her eyes covered, being put into a jail cell willingly? What is this? Why does she have this urge to run head first into danger when it comes to saving Ben Solo?

She should know better than this. Sitting here in the humming void of the vehicle triggers her memories of long ago, when she  was lying in an escape pod, kriffing shipping herself right to their mortal enemy.

There wasn't much space to move back then either, her heart pounding in her throat from fear and excitement. Completely at the mercy of the First Order, at Ben’s (who, she then completely disregarded, was no less Kylo Ren, too) conveniently canned into an iron coffin.

How sure she had been that she was going to succeed. How wrong she was.

She swallows the tears, the helpless frustration with herself, the pathetic naivety she made her plans with. Upon instinct, without really thinking it through.

Just like now.

The movement stops and the ‘troopers once again drag her somewhere, down long corridors, with even lighting. She will have no idea where she is within the base, Rey realizes. They walk and walk, straight, left turn, straight right turn, short straight left, right, right, until her head is dizzy and disoriented. The soldiers must sense when she has given up trying to follow the route, because soon they stop and a door hisses open. They lead her into the cell, which smells of disinfectant and cold metal, but otherwise promised to be more comfortable than her Resistance quarters have been, so far. The cloth comes down from her eyes, just as the shackles are removed, and the ‘troopers leave without a word, locking the cell from the outside.

As soon as her eyes adjust, she looks around. The cell is indeed clinically clean, almost like an operating room. There is a hard bench, a toilet and a small sink. Rey contemplates whether Diarmuid put her into a hotel or a prison cell.

The realisation of her misery in the Resistance hits her painfully. She never was accustomed to any commodities and she didn't realise there was any lack thereof while moving around the galaxy every other week.

There is not much to look at right now. Ben's signature is still pulsating faintly in the Force. It is barely stronger than a single candle in a dark forest, but it's there and it's reassuring.

Her exhaustion, muted by the constant onslaught of the last few hours, makes itself noticed with a ferocious vigor, knocking out her legs as she sinks to the bed.

Paradoxically, she feels safe in here.

Rey huffs. How can she feels safe in the cell of the enemy? Maybe it's because only Diarmuid will be able to harm her and she knows he doesn't want to.

Again, compassion finds her unexpectedly. First, from Ben, amd now from this First Order officer, while those from whom who she expected understanding have once again failed her. She bitterly recalls Luke’s reluctance to teach her, and the ache of Finn’s guilt.

How much more is this war going to take from her? Incessantly taunting aunt her with a false hope of belonging then crushing it even more viciously.

She buries her face in her hands, feeling the calloused skin scratch her sensitive face.

_How much more?_

Her parents promised to return, they never did. She thought she found a father figure in Han Solo, only for him to be taken away by his own son. Said son was taken from her because of power, because of the machinations of Snoke. Luke Skywalker didn't even bother to  take her seriously. And now her friends have failed her, under the false pretense of justice. Almost, almost taking away her only companion who shares this - - this ability, that she doesn't know enough about.

He is all that's left to her, however broken he might be. Ben Solo is not what she wants him to be, Rey bitterly accepts that truth. But Ben Solo is also her last anchor in a world that has become too wide, too soon.

As the moisture softens her skin, she becomes aware that she is sobbing.

 _Kriffing great._ This cell is going to break her with its silence, by allowing her to think and reflect -  for the first time since BB8 arrived in her life and tore apart that thin nothing she called her life.

She fears that soon she will be begging for noise, for anything that could redirect her thoughts on solving, surviving.

Why is she so kriffing alone, again? Back to square one.

Or worse off, because now she knows what it feels like to _belong_. To care. To be cared _for_.

Her tears stream incessantly and she, for the first time in days, doesn't try stop them, doesn't try to find an excuse to do this later. Later is now.

*

Diarmuid’s blood pressure nears the fatal level as he carries Kylo Ren towards the med bay. His soldiers are looking at him in awe, he feels, as they get to see him as a true leader. This boondocks  First Order base has been sleepy for as long as he has been stationed here;keeping the ‘troopers motivated and in shape has been the only challenge he’s faced so far.

The Jedi girl’s plan seems to be working. He can't say he isn't surprised.

A grunt escapes his lungs as he wrestles with Kylo Ren’s body. The man is limp as a rag. He might have lost a lot of weight but he is still a huge man and Diarmuid needs the help of an unsuspecting soldier to lift him onto the table in the med bay. The droids rush to tend to the injured man and Diarmuid comes to his senses, sending away the others.

“Force’s sake, let the man have his dignity!“ he snaps and they take the hint. Clicking their soles together, they quickly leave.

Diarmuid exhales a breath he has been holding. A droid senses that he is injured too and instructs him to sit down, let it examine the damage.

While the droid fusses with his minor bruises, he is watching the bigger ones cut the white uniform off Ren’s body. Every piece that falls away reveals the evidence of unspeakable horror.

He wants to throw up, as he smells the infected flash mingled with the foul odor of long expired bacta.

Sensing this, the droid hands him a blue liquid to take away the nausea.

He accepts it, and is especially glad for the assistance because the next moment, the helmet comes off. If he didn't know he was looking at Kylo Ren, he would have had no means with which to recognise him.

His cheeks pop out, spanning blue-yellow skin. The iconic injury bisecting his face blends in with the badly healed bruises.

All in all, he looks more corpse than human. Especially now, as the mechanic arms stuff an oxygen tube down his throat.

He instructs the droids to obscure the bacta tank when they insert the body into the pale turquoise liquid, although the oxygen mask will make him unrecognisable anyway.

Again, a wave of relief washes over him. His treason will go undetected for a little longer and Ren will be at his mercy. He can pull the plug literally and figuratively any time.

“You only report to _me_ about his condition, is that clear?“ he says to the med droids.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Very well. I want an update every two hours.”

“Certainly, Sir.”

He nods as if he were speaking to a human (he can't get rid of this tic) and leaves to examine this Jedi girl, Rey.

*

 _Why does it hurt so little? Why have I not died from this pain? How can I be so numb? He is my son after all, for fuck’s sake, how can I not feel anything? Is it the meds that are making me so numb? Should I stop taking them? Or should I stop taking them_ and _drink?_

Leia huffs bitterly.

_Not like anyone would care if I died. I have lost those who would have._

She is sipping her favourite cocktail, Daruvvian champagne with a splash of gin, sugar and lemon juice. She likes to pretend that she hasn't just lost a whole war, a war she dedicated her life to winning. Maybe even to pretend there was no war in the first place and that she is still surrounded by her flesh and blood instead of the faded yellow cushions of the Millennium Falcon, where she has been hiding for the past two days.

The booze was tucked away in the same hidden compartment Han made for her decades ago, and to her biggest surprise, it has remained intact throughout the years and battles.

Looking back on her life in the captain's cabin feels like being in a wormhole. This small space compresses everything she held dear - and everything that now has vanished.

She was hoping to get some hallucinations about happier times, when she and Han used to make love in this bed ( _kriff, Han, I bumped my head again, - alright, Princess, get on your back then),_ but they haven’t come.

The second in command of the Resistance council opens the door of the captain's quarters.

“Leia,” he says in a soft, almost apologetic voice, “have you made your decision?“

She rolls her eyes.

Of kriffing course, yet another _decision._ Always a _decision,_ a _responsibility._ Over the course of the past two days, she has been thinking about the next step.

Suddenly, she has realised she is old. Suddenly, she has started to wonder whether she ever counted on having peace when she would get old. Maybe she didn't. But most certainly, she never counted on waging a war against her own son and then proceeding to  almost kill him.

After the Corellian ship took off with Rey and Ben, she stood there in the middle of the hangar like a statute.

The others also stood in stupor, staring at the scene unfolding.

_The General let go of Kylo Ren._

The thought settled molecule by molecule in their heads, as the dust did in the aerodrome. By the time the air cleared, so did the perception of the soldiers. It was all written in their eyes, crippling in the silence.

_The General let go of Kylo Ren._

_Because Kylo Ren is her_ son _._

_She is compromised. Has been all along._

_She is not the leader we need._

When she looked around, Leia felt her power evaporate.

Finn and Poe were standing at her side, their backs straighter than when their spines were bent under the weight of long forgotten morals - that Rey upheld for them

So Leia took a deep breath, summoning all her grace as royalty, and wordlessly retreated into the Falcon. Her steps echoed in the hostile silence.

She knew, of course, that there had been discussions going on in the Council. That Poe and Finn had abruptly become the determining voice in the leadership.

Because _they_ were strong. _They_ were brave. _They_ were unbiased.

 _They_ \- - - didn't have a son.

The council wouldn't go as far as to forcibly remove her. With all her political experience, however, Leia knew her choices were exhausted.

What she wanted - a clear punishment of Finn and Poe on the grounds of defying an order - was impossible to obtain.

Not addressing this new direction the Resistance was taking - this was even less to her liking.

Either way, the loyalty of the Resistance lies not with her anymore.

She sighs, an acceptance of defeat before she levels her gaze with the second in command.

“I resign.”

He is not arguing with her, not trying to change her mind. There is only a nod and she knows they have been expecting this.

“I want to leave the Resistance,” Leia continues, with determination in her voice, “where we are heading - - - this is not what I have dedicated my life to.”

“It is not for us to decide with what means we have to fight the First Order,” he answers, simply.

“Well, is it not?“ she snaps.

The tension is suddenly palpable in the room. Leia glares at the man - the man she used to trust her life with.

He stiffens, the amiability vanishing from his demeanor, reminding Leia once again that - despite the friendly tones - she is only a hairbreadth away from being treated as prisoner.That she - in their eyes - is a traitor, spared only in a silent code of honor, for her long service to the Resistance.

Finally Leia relents, averting her gaze. 

_What use is it to pick more fights? To wedge an even greater distance between herself and her - now former - comrades?  They can’t understand._

“I’ll inform the Council about your decision,” he says then, softening .

Her answer is only a nod.

This… this is the only way.

*

 

 _A peculiar woman, that one,_ Diarmuid thinks, as he strides down the corridors to Rey's cell, on autopilot.

_Are they lovers, or... what? Who can show so much compassion for a monster like Ren?_

But then again… aren't they all monsters, a little?

While he walks, he has more time to reflect on his newfound situation. That comforting thought from earlier about how Ren’s life lies in his hands creeps back to him.

But he not only has Ren. He also has the Jedi girl.

 _A clearly desperate Jedi girl._ He doubts she would have anyone to help her. Otherwise she would not have trusted him.

_What happened there with the Resistance? Why did she run right to the First Order?_

Diarmuid likes to think of himself as an honest, compassionate man.

But all at once…

All at once he has so much _power_ in his hands.

Ren. _And_ the Jedi girl.

At his mercy.

If he were to present them to Hux… the new Supreme Leader would no doubt receive him personally. Promote him. Take him as his right hand.

And then…

_Then I would be close enough to end his life with my own hands._

Now that the seed of this realisation has taken root, it starts to grow farther and deeper into the soil of his mind as solid and indestructible as ironwithe.

 _I have them both,_ is his last thought when the cell door hisses open, revealing the worn-out Jedi girl.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how did you like it? Please, leave me a comment or a kudo, I am dying to know whether there is still anyone willing to read this after such a long time. :D
> 
> Hit me up on tumblr: reylotrashpiler.
> 
>  
> 
>  **References**  
> [YV-560_light_freighter ](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/YV-560_light_freighter)  
> [Ironwithe ](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Ironwithe)
> 
>  
> 
> [Denym ](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Denym)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my gift for Valentine's exchange for two prompts! :) 
> 
> _First prompt:_ "After a skirmish, Kylo is captured and fitted with something that stops him from using his Force abilities. Members of the Resistance want revenge and torture the Knight (please no removing of limbs, teeth, etc). When Rey finally finds the Resistance's dark secret, locked away and in desperate need of medical attention, she realizes monsters can be on both sides of the fight." Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant
> 
>  _Second prompt:_ "Dark!Rey fics, Kylo Ren redemption, action and battle scenes that lead to better understandings, hurt and comfort, and anything bizarre that brings them together." Tags: Kylo Ren Redemption, Dark Side Rey, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Shameless Smut, Force Bond (Star Wars)
> 
> Story in development, sorry that I couldn't finish the whole thing on deadline. But I promise, there will be all of the tags from both fics. ;)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **References**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [Mirialan names](http://exonoma.com/category/far-away/mirialan/)  
> [Ysalamir](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Ysalamir)  
> [Dire-cat](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Dire-cat)  
> [Atmospheric Assault Lander](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Atmospheric_Assault_Lander)  
> [Memory Walk](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Memory_Walk)  
> Gidaa’fan: Gida (female warrior) Afan (between the goddess and the ground), this one is my own creation, based on  
> [Twi'lek names](http://twileklore.nimanet.org/?page_id=20)  
> In the blue: TIE pilot expression meaning "operating in planetary atmosphere.
> 
> Get lines: A bomber crew term for disengaging and jumping to hyperspace.
> 
> Fangs out: A TIE fighter pilot idiom meaning "eager for a dogfight."
> 
> Bantha fodder: The equivalent of "worthless"; a person or thing deemed to have no value beyond something for a bantha to graze on.
> 
> Emperor's snowmen: Alternate name for stormtroopers thought up by Ezra Bridger.


End file.
